


Midnight Breezes

by Miku



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Angst, Barebacking, Bottom Eren Yeager, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Domestic Violence, Heavy Angst, M/M, Marijuana, Prostitution, Top Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Underage Prostitution, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-20 11:02:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19991071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miku/pseuds/Miku
Summary: This story follows Eren Jaeger from 1989 to 1990 as he struggles with coming to terms with what he's been through and still is.Prostituting himself to men comes with dangers and plenty of self-neglect and he expects Erwin Smith to treat him just like any other John.However, though fond of bland missionary intercourse, Erwin pays well and Eren sticks around; eventually meeting the man's friend going by Levi who doesn't seem one bit interested in the boy.Juggling his personal life with that of trying to be there for his mother, Eren's eventually forced to face his inner demons and make a change.(Erwin/Eren heavy though Levi/Eren is the main pairing)(Based on the book/movie MYSTERIOUS SKIN.)





	1. Freebird.

**Author's Note:**

> I refused to post anything of this story (even though I started on it over a year ago and "surprise surprise" abandoned it for ages) until I finished it.  
> So, fear not, this one's actually going to be published start to finish. (around 20k words)
> 
> The band 'Slowdive' inspired me a lot while writing this. (The 'Shoegaze' genre in general gives me them late 80's early 90's tingles) Later on the band 'Cigarettes After Sex' also played a great part in setting this fic's atmosphere.

** !!! WARNING !!! **

** Please read the archive warnings and tags!  
** ** This story is heavy on angst and there will be violent scenes taking place (detailed) such as: **

** rape  ** _(violent, roofied),_   
domestic violence _ (against Carla Jäger) _ _,_ _  
_ alcoholism _(Carla Jäger),_  
and more!

** Please be careful going into reading this fic, it may be very heavy for some of you guys.  
DON'T RISK IT IF YOU AREN'T SURE. **

* * *

_The entire story's inspiration song [[x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HoXA2M8rAsg)]_

** Prologue. ** ****

  
  
In love with the sun as much as with the rain, Eren longs for the penchant of summer and the scent of petrichor which, after a suffocating downpour, is carried along on midnight breezes.   
  
He aches for those days, where his backpack stuffed with schoolbooks remains untouched for months and the only thing on his person are his ragged, ill-fitting clothes, a pack of Marlboro cigarettes stolen from mother dearest, his leather wallet and keys to the front and back doors of his home.    
  
Mentioned wallet is of little use at this very moment, his fake ID and three, wrinkly five dollar bills other times suffice to get him a couple of drinks. However, tonight, he's stuck at a bus station for god knows how long, snow reaching to his ankles and seeping through his worn All Stars sneakers.   
Eren's spring jacket does little to keep him warm, instead seeming to drink up the snow that lands on his shoulders, the icy cold biting at his skin through the layer of his band T-shirt as well.   
  
Though his bare fingers are numb by now, he still lights one of his last cigarettes, a dent in it causing it to bend at a comical angle but nonetheless it remains fit to be smoked.   
  
Doubtful the bus is ever going to show up on a snowy midnight, Eren considers his only other options.   
Get a ride with a stranger.   
Spend the night at a  stranger's .   
Or freeze to death.   
  
All three of those choices hold little excitement for Eren and though the young man isn't too shy of considering not waking up for a while, the cold still urges him to not make a run for it when a car pulls to a stop in front of him.   
  
The vehicle, large and black -expensive- hums loudly as the heater inside of it must be on full blast and sure enough, when Eren leans down and the window opens, he can feel warmth lick at his blushing cheeks.   
  
Inside, the man's features are somewhat hidden in the dark of the night, but a hand beckons him, fingers curling at him to get in the car and Eren -frozen and uncaring of his own safety- flicks away his cigarette and enters.   
  
As they pull away and Eren warms his hands by holding them up against the ventilation, a few bills are strewn into his lap.    
The papers are not as crinkled as the ones the kid has shoved into his own wallet, and they exceed the amount Eren has as well; twenty-five bucks.    
  
A fair amount for a warm car ride home and having to go down on an older man who, though balding and a bit heavier set than would be advised by any doctor, isn't too rugged looking.  
  
Eren murmurs a street name close to his own place when the man asks him where he needs to be and later on he's glad to note that the stranger is clean of body odors behind an unbuckled belt.   
  
When rinsing his mouth, later that night in his home's bathroom, Eren's mother asks him if he's seen her Marlboros and though both are aware of the boy's pack not being his, they still share the last cigarette on the living room couch without further argument, watching reruns of generic T . V .- shows that only get played during times anyone would be sleeping soundly.   
Except them.   
  
Mother and son, with a relationship so very far from parent and child and much closer to that of best friends.    
She tells him she loves him and Eren throws an arm around her shoulders, stealing her own cigarette from her and taking a drag before handing back the bud.   
  
They smile and though Eren's mind nags at him, tries to remind him of how maudlin and abnormal his life is, heonly longs for summer and midnight breezes.


	2. Strangers.

** I. **

A rebel without a cause. That pretty much sums up Eren. Though always eager to swim against the stream, to initiate or merely participate in confrontation, in the end there's no point to his battles nor a gain to his victories.    
If it weren't for the thrill of it, then perhaps he would've been a calmer kid.   
  
Then again, not much was to be expected for his future, considering he's been raised by a woman too broken to even start granting Eren a proper upbringing. But he adores her nonetheless, and though surely there's a lot more negative to note about her, Eren prefers to blame the men in his life. The father figures, or lack therefore as the only ones he'd ever met were alcoholic two-week-lovers of his single parent.    
  
Adults in general are not reliable. But at least she took care of him without excusing herself. Certainly, she had her own life as well, having birthed him at mere seventeen years of age, but nonetheless she'd been there for Eren in any way she could afford or conjure.   
Her heart is golden though perhaps not as pure as one would desire of their own guardian.   
  
His first pint at the age of twelve was shared with no other than his mother. And no different was his first experience with cannabis. Even the tiny tattoo hidden within the curve of a protruding hip bone as well as the frail, thin, silver ring in his nostril were put on his body within the presence of shady professionals and her.   
  
But there always had been food on the table (at times cheap pasta with any sauce found in the back of an empty fridge, other times hearty potatoes with canned vegetables and a piece of discount meat) and whether or not she'd be home, when Eren needed a shoulder to cry on she'd offer it to him the very moment they'd be together.   
He could and still can talk to her about anything, though granted now that he's a teenager his desire for privacy chokes his voice more often than not.   
  
At times Eren wonders if she knows. If she knows that her ‘baby boy’ is fooling around with men older than her boyfriends, that he at times indulges on more than alcohol and soft drugs when he's out with the few people he managed to befriend at high school, that he takes big and irresponsible risks every single weekend that threaten not only his health but as well, at times, his life.   
  
Besides his eagerness to have privacy, a bigger part of him would hate for her to worry over him. She adores him, despite what picture-perfect parents might think of their relationship, she _does_ love Eren and moreover does Eren love her.   
She does not deserve to lay awake worrying over him more than she already does. Bless her soul, she's been through enough already.    
  
"I think he might be the one." She says to him, shaking him from his thoughts.   
Eren glances at his mother, his smile genuine for he is pleased to see the dreamy expression on her face. But his mind doesn't buy it.   
Another boyfriend who's going to leave her in shambles. Had Eren not experienced seeing abusive and manipulative patterns in potential father figures he might've ended up a hopeless romantic such as his mother remains to be even after endless amounts of letdowns in her dating life.    
  
"Yeah?"    
  
She nods, wags her eyebrows while taking a drag from the cigarette between her smiling lips. Eren chuckles and pulls her closer against him as they sit shoulder-to-shoulder on the couch.   
  
"Happy for you, mom." He admits, though already dreading the day where she gets cheated on by her Romeo and she'll spend a few days drinking and blaming only herself for having such bad taste in men. Though he’s pretty sure that she's capable of foreseeing the future she'll spend with these lousy men, Eren is always left to ponder over why she still throws herself into unreliable arms.   
  
Perhaps for the thrill of it? Just like her son.

* * *

Though tall, Eren is skinny and lanky and dreadfully sensitive to the cold. He sniffles, ducking his head in his scarf and cursing the white specks that flutter down softly but land with biting venom.   
His hands are balled into fists inside the pockets of his black jeans, the fit of them supposedly tight though they're a size too large for the teenager.    
  
Craving a cigarette, he grows impatient quickly as his friends fail to show up on time.   
Regardless, after waving off two Johns trying to offer him a ride and then some, a beat-up, rusty, small car pulls up to the curb and Eren gets in immediately.   
  
"Froze my balls off, shit." The young man grumbles in dismay while he doesn't bother putting on his seat belt in the backseat and instead lights a cig. His glare meets the amused gaze of his best girlfriend through the rear-view mirror.   
  
"Be grateful I showed up at all. Could've ended up in a ditch had I driven like a maniac like you do. This weather is dangerous." She snaps back though there's never any genuine anger in her voice when addressing Eren.    
Next to her, another friend of his hums in agreement.   
  
"At least I won't die driving like a granny like you, Mikasa." Eren scolds his friend for her sinfully slow and overly careful driving. Though she's in no way as close to Eren when it comes to being a wild child, Mikasa is still a mouthy and frustrated teenager, not afraid to throw a punch or drink herself senseless.   
Nonetheless, somehow, she still took to being the mother hen of their clique and driving sensibly is one of her things.   
  
The other boy in the front though, is the true prude of the bunch. The only shocking aspect of him; his sexuality, and perhaps his intelligence when considering he hangs out with future high-school drop-outs. For some awful reason he looks up to Eren, but never quite caught the courage or idiotic mindset to copy the older boy fully.   
Armin is an angel and were it not for the fact that the boy is smart enough to consent to hanging out with two fucked up kids, Eren would perhaps feel a tinge of guilt for dragging the blond teen along their path of shenanigans.   
  
Eren brushes a hand through his messy, dark hair before handing his cigarette over to Mikasa. Her gaze never wavers from the windshield as she plucks the smoke from her friend's fingers.   
  
Leaning back in the middle of the wide seat, Eren spreads his long legs and eyes the vortex of snowy stars spiraling towards the car, making it look like they're flying through space. The hot air is thick, scent of pine heavy, but he appreciates the defrosting of his toes and fingers and naturally does not even consider complaining about an upcoming headache.    
  
Hell. He'll drink it away soon enough. Eren wants to numb his skull and warm his stomach with only strong alcohol and perhaps a little help from smoke-filled pubs.    
  
The world passes them by outside and in this enclosed space, with just the three of them, Eren enjoys to fool himself. Tells himself that life is full of surprises and joyful nights spent with people he's close to.    
He has good looks for free drinks and good company for cynical self-reflecting as well as some tasteless jokes. And not a single soul has cursed him with a curfew or any expectations.   
  
These nights are when he tells himself he's a free bird. And nothing can stop him. And nothing is that bad. And nothing is against him.

* * *

  
  
Men, like his mother tends to tell him during rare times she happens to be single, are one and the same; want the same thing and cannot be trusted whatsoever.   
She tells Eren this from the perspective of a fed-up woman and has no clue that her son might be viewing men from a similar stand-point. Though not a woman, Eren does like men like only a female should, something only friends and Johns know.    
  
She sees no harm in addressing them all at once for her baby boy is never perceived by her as anything but her child and in turn Eren doesn't take it personal. He's not quite a man after all. Not like those anyways.    
  
Regardless, even if she'd never told him about the hardships of dating them, Eren would've still figured it out. He's still seen them. Walking inside his house like they own the place just because they happen to be bedding his mother. Wide struts and straight backs, wide grins and hungry eyes. Hairy hands and dry mouths that stench of alcohol a mile away. Disgusting, truly. Dumb and greedy.   
  
At times aggressive.   
  
His stomach turns at the memories and that's the reason why he turns down a possible well-paying John. He's too bulky, too arrogant and loud. Like a damn rooster in a chicken-pen.    
Had Armin and Mikasa not been at either side of him in the booth, Eren suspects the tall man would not have given up so easily. However, in the presence of plenty of people he turns on his heels and struts away to likely try his luck on a less picky young twink.   
  
Mikasa clinks her beer against Eren's and Armin joins in soon after, all of them agreeing Eren made the right call on that steroid pumped creep. Their beers taste even better knowing they've been given to the trio by generous customers in the pub.   
Of legal age or not, sappy geezers still enjoy some eye candy in their local bar and the owners act like they can't spot the telltale off hues on their fake IDs.   
  
The night passes by in a flash and long after the bar closes at three in the morning, the trio departs on their ways homes. They drop off Armin first, the youngest of the bunch half passed out because he drank far more than he could handle.    
  
Eren and Mikasa on the other hand linger around in the city that has quietened down as people have grown sleepy after their generous consumptions of alcohol.   
  
"Have you thought about college?" Mikasa asks as they share her last cigarette for the night. Eren's mouth tastes like shit and he fumbles around in the pocket of his jacket in search of a lost mint or piece of chewing gum.   
He shrugs as a reply, cigarette dangling from between his lips and then gives up finding any candy, instead pulling his beanie lower down over his ears. They're back to cold since they've been outside for a few hours and the alcohol is settling down, no longer burning away.    
  
"I'm somewhat afraid of leaving this town behind." She admits.   
  
Eren hands Mikasa her cig and frowns, his hands back to being buried in his pants pockets.    
  
"I can't wait to leave this shitty place. Though I'm doubtful it'll be to attend any college." He grumbles more than articulates before continuing.   
"My grades suck."   
  
The older girl nods, her smile sad, and Eren bites back his urge to bark at her for pitying him. He doesn't need pity. It's his own fault after all; the bad grades that is. No matter his home situation, he could still pick up a book and study if he knew what's best for him.   
  
But he never does.    
  
"Do you think we will grow apart? Like, you know, people do after they move away and such."    
  
Though her question disturbs the last peaceful lingering remains of intoxication, Eren still finds it in himself to wrap an arm around her waist. He tugs her closer to him and bumps the side of his head against hers, their height near-identical though Eren gained an inch on her the past year.   
  
"I think that happens to people who don't put the effort in. What's so hard about keeping in touch, right?" He says confidently and shakes his head when she offers him the last drag of her cigarette.   
  
She puffs.   
  
"Besides. You're my soulmate, Mikasa. If I weren't so fucking gay I would courtship you into irresponsible teen marriage."   
  
She snorts, shoving an elbow in the boy's ribs causing them both to stumble on the empty sidewalk.   
  
Though Eren would never be as foolish as to marry someone, the sentiment behind his words is very much truthful. Besides his mother, Mikasa is the most important person in his life. They've been together for well over a decade, neighbors since he'd been five and she had been six.   
Their similar home lives and hatred towards alpha males, plus foul mouths and love for escapism through means of substance-abuse only bonded them further as they grew from damaged children into scarred teens.   
  
Had Eren not been gay, he's positive they would've been a couple since long ago and perhaps Mikasa still hopes for the day he might convert.

He won’t.

* * *

  
_'He must be new in town'_ Eren figures as his eyes keep being pulled towards an attractive man.   
Though the stranger doesn't notice Eren, he still seems to want to linger around. Most likely because of the bartender, a muscular and young guy, who keeps getting sucked into the stranger's stories or whatever he is forming with full lips.   
  
However, as an hour passes by and Eren takes more time to observe, there's a brotherly undertone to their teasing which earlier the boy mistook as flirting. Must be old friends, perhaps. Or distant relatives.   
  
The music is soft and the buzz of chatting people falls into the background when Eren leans over the bar to listen to what the bartender shares with him. It's a calm Tuesday evening and an ideal time to allow his curiosity to get the better of him when the stranger finally leaves.   
  
"He's an old friend of the family, actually. My dad's side of it. Fancy folk. We used to fool around when I was around fourteen before my parents and I moved to this town. He apparently is staying with a friend at the moment and thought to come check on me after a decade."   
  
Eren hums, sitting back and taking a gulp from his glass of beer.   
  
The bartender going by Jean abruptly stops what he's doing and gazes at Eren while holding a glass stuffed with the towel he's using to dry it.   
  
"Why?"    
  
Eren shrugs, clacks his tongue and coyly glances down at his drink.   
  
"Listen. I don't care if you fool around with him but you're not going to get a lot of money out of him. He may look generous but he's a stuck up and greedy prick when it comes down to it." Jean doesn't sound too bitter saying this, but more so amused as he shakes his head to himself and continues drying the glass he's holding.   
  
"Doesn't surprise me if he tossed you around at fourteen. He looks a decade older than you. What a pervert."    
  
Jean nods.   
  
"He's almost forty by now so yup, you catch the drift."   
  
"I'd be surprised if he can get it up."   
  
"Going to try and see for yourself?"   
  
Eren shrugs. _Maybe_. The man is attractive and though he might've fooled around with a younger Jean for little pay he might do a better offer to spend a night with Eren.    
Not to toot his own horn, but young and southern looking boys with an attitude tend to do well with wealthy older men.   
  
Getting up from his chair, Eren raps his knuckles on the bar once and continues by shrugging on his thin jacket.   
  
"I'll pay you later for the beers, thanks Jean."    
  
"You're twenty bucks behind, jackass." The bartender scoffs but doesn't attempt to stop Eren from leaving.   
  
When the boy exits the bar, cold snow hits him in his face and the drop of temperature in his drunk system causes him to stop in his tracks so abruptly he nearly trips on a frozen puddle of ice.   
  
He would've fallen flat on his bony ass had a large hand not supported his back to keep him upright.    
  
"Oh! Careful there, young man."   
  
Eren looks up -the older man's voice so deep and warm it almost succeeded in making him forget the cold outside- and is met by a pair of blue eyes.   
  
First thing the kid notices is that he is a lot taller than he thought before. Second thing is that he smells fucking delicious. Like expensive aftershave and thosefancy, neutral soaps you can steal in hotels.   
  
Eren, reaching behind, gently puts his fingers on the man's wrist, assuring him that the palm of his hand may remain in the small of his back.   
  
"Thank you, stranger." Eren coyly remarks and smiles up at him.    
When the other mimics his expression –though less stiffly than Eren had- and very subtly let's his thumb brush only once over Eren's back, the boy knows he’s got him hooked.   
  
"Care to offer me a ride?"   
  
"Not a problem. Where you heading?"   
  
"Your place?" Eren suggests boldly. The man's smile softens though his eyes remain sharp and dark.   
  
"Then I guess we are no longer strangers..." He allows the words to hang as he guides Eren away from the pub.   
  
"Eren." The kid offers, terribly pleased when noticing they're walking to a single car left parked in the street. A beautiful, pitch-black Mustang.   
  
"Nice to meet you Eren. I'm Erwin."

* * *

  
  
The sex is alright. Perhaps a bit above average, sure, but the size of the man and his impatience to fuck has left Eren sore and stretched.   
  
It's four in the morning when Erwin’s dozed off and Eren's found enough strength and willingness to leave the warm bed and get dressed to face the cold outside. He needs to get home, his mom's probably worried sick.    
  
Nearly jumping out of his skin when a hand grabs his wrist, Eren yelps in an embarrassing high pitch when the man makes him stop in his tracks.   
  
"I can drive you home." He offers groggily but there's a few rules Eren tries to follow and one of them is to not accept any kindness from a stranger that might lead either of them to believe there’s more going on than the initial friendliness for sexual outcomes. Once the deed is done and Eren’s been paid for, that’s the end of it.   
There's always a catch to this. Either they want something back or they'll leave you emotionally confused.    
  
"No." Eren grumbles, pulling away before he pulls his jeans over his hips, hopping a few times to get into them more quickly.   
  
"Then wait a few hours until there's some buses. You're going to freeze out there." The man suggests after checking the clock on his bedside-table.   
  
"I won't." Is all the teenager says. His replies intentionally short as he trusts no one. Not even with a lie of _'I live close here.'_ or a truthful _'my mom will be worried.'_.   
  
"Alright." Erwin murmurs, turning around to lay on his stomach, burying his face in a pillow. Outstretched as he is, the man dwarves the king-size bed with his long limbs and bared muscular shoulders.   
  
"Take any cash left in my wallet on the night desk. Thanks for the good time, Eren."   
  
Though disliking how the man uses his name so casually, Eren doesn't pass off on the offer and shamelessly goes through Erwin's wallet, picking out any cash in there. Two hundred thirteen bucks.   
  
_'Nice_ _!_ _'_ And not as greedy as the bartender made him believe earlier that night. Perhaps Erwin's a changed man. Perhaps it was a lie in the first place.   
  
Whichever one, Eren cares not and he makes sure to exit the apartment in haste before Erwin can change his mind.

Regardless of the late hour, Eren’s surprised to see another person exit the elevator when its doors slide open in front of him.   
Always having had the tendency to stare, Eren’s only marginally startled when the stranger catches his eyes. He looks tired, dressed in an entirelyblack suit, briefcase dangling from a slender hand. Though rather short and pale, it’s his sharp features, grey bedroom-eyes and raven-black hair that cause him to appear rather attractive to Eren. Had he seen this man in a bar, he would’ve gone for it.

Eren knows, when the man gives him a once over, that it isn’t out of interest per se, but more so because with his messy hair and swollen lips, it’s obvious Eren’s been fucked recently.  Besides, his ragged jeans and six-year-old sneakers betray his poverty; betray he doesn’t  belong in an apartment building as fancy as this one.

The young boy lowers his eyes, uncharacteristically embarrassed and he quickly passes by the man to enter the elevator. When turning around to face the closing doors, his eyes once more are caught by the stranger’s; scrutinizing him over his shoulder.   
Once descending, Eren notices he’s been holding his breath.

The boy’s exhale is shaky and tight.


	3. Haunted.

**!!! Chapter warnings: domestic violence, rape (roofied) !!! **

* * *

** II. **

Coming home to this very scene before him isn’t unfamiliar yet remains breathtaking time and time again. The air, punched from his gut, leaves Eren frozen for not even half a second before he launches himself onto the assailant towering over his mother on the floor.

Had this been the first time, like it’d been over a decade ago, it might’ve taken him various minutes of collecting enough courage to put himself between a drunken, screaming man and his only parent. However, he’s no longer that six-year-old child, he no longer is tricked by the image in front of him, he no longer believes in boogey men or monsters and moreover, he no longer believes in a hero coming to the rescue.

His mother and himself are the only ones here to fight against the abuse.

“Eren, don’t!” 

She says this every single time it happens, a broken record stuck to their house like a haunting and though they ring in familiar tones, it’s not pleasant to Eren’s ears.

Disheveled as she is, busted lip and a cheekbone that’s already produced a glossy sheen over it in its preparation to swell up, Eren’s mother still grabs for the phone that’s propped upon the side-table next to her. It’s second nature by now, after all.

Casting his eyes away from his parent huddled between the couch and table, phone askew on her pulled up legs, Eren is met by a fist going for his nose. Though dodging the swing, knuckles still connect with his eyebrow. The impact rattles his teeth, the proximity to his temple causing white patches to burst into his vision momentarily.   
Pain absent as adrenaline pumps through his veins, Eren lets out a shout with the force it takes him to shove the taller man backwards, having him trip over the foot he’d placed behind his legs. Both dropping to the floor, Eren doesn’t even bother planning ahead, let alone hesitate, and immediately throws a punch with as much power he possesses.

Breaking one’s nose isn’t a pleasant sensation whatsoever and nor does it  guarantee an enraged man  to stop dead  in his tracks. However, as Eren scrambles over floorboards towards his mother who’s crying on the phone, the man is left whining over his looks as he cups his nose and writhes over the floor. 

The stranger’s vanity dampens his rage immediately. A lucky  break for Eren and his mother.

Later on, as mother and son are seated on their couch while the attacker is being escorted out of the house, handcuffed, the living-room is illuminated with on and off red and blue glows.

Eren watches, pained, as his mother refuses to turn in a complaint. Just like the countless times before.

“Are you positive, ma’am?” The female cop tries again, her brow furrowed as she leans in towards his mother from the chair she’s seated on. Eren lowers his eyes onto the notebook in her hand, flipped open to an empty page, pen ready; its tip resting upon the paper.

“Mom.” Eren urges when she nods at the officer.

“It’s okay. Just a messy break-up. It’s over now.” Her smile is wobbly, but eyes are determined in a glazed and empty manner. Drunk as she might be, Eren squeezes her hand which he’s been holding since they’d seated themselves on the couch.

Can he blame her? Can he blame her for the alcohol both he and the cop can smell on her? Or for once more having been beaten up and betrayed by another now-ex-boyfriend?    
Can he blame her, even for having put _him_ through this once again?

Eren catches his mother’s watery gaze, broken to a point he  himself  hasn’t even come close to reach ing .

No.

He smiles softly at her, patting her hand before getting up to follow the officer’s example and see her out.

“You should really sit down with her to have her send in a complaint. This has been the third call to your house this  month  alone. Let alone the past years you both have been living here.”

Eren simply nods, lightly offended one would assume he’d not spent hours talking to his mother to try and get her help. Not to mention, he’d yet to be removed from his home. In this neighborhood, little care is shown whenever paperwork is involved, as  has  been proven the past handful of years his mother and him had been living here, becoming well-known to local authorities.  Yet nothing’s been done, even with him being seventeen; a minor.

“Have a good rest of your night, sir.” Her face is expressionless once more and he shakes her hand before closing the door to the various police cars parked outside on their muddy drive-way.

When not finding his mother in the living-room where he’d left her, Eren knows where to find her.

“Making pancakes?” Eren asks, walking into the kitchen where he can find her rummaging through cabinets and drawers.

“How else am I supposed to make it up to you?” She asks rhetorically with a shaky voice, reminding them both of the countless of times she’d made pancakes  for Eren  as a child whenever horrendous things had happened to them. As a peace-offering, a  _ fresh start _ .

By now though, pancakes have lost their magic as Eren’s not only gotten older and  has  lost his appetite for sweet things, but moreover since only bad memories seem to cling to the treat.

When she drops a pack of flour and has the white powder explode over the floor, lower-cabinets and her legs, Eren easily predicts the next act in their routine.

Even before she breaks down in tears, Eren’s wrapped his arms around her.   
They sit together, on the flour-covered tiles, leaning against the wood of the counter behind them.

Eren holds her for close to an hour before her drunken misery  eases her to sleep.

And Eren is left staring into nothing, thinking of nothing but as always eager to run away from this all.

Which he never does. At least, not for long.

She needs him, after all. Stuck to each other like a haunting.

* * *

He’s never really enjoyed this. Not thoroughly, or genuinely.   
But what Eren appreciates about sleeping with strangers is that it takes his mind away from home, from his life outside of the bubble that’s being created whenever he’s intimate with someone.

However, though still impatient and too large for his own good, Erwin almost manages to have Eren relax into the rocking motion of being fucked at a slow pace.   
The boy gazes at the man on top of him, a welcoming boredom allowing him to observe his crow’s feet, the sweat beading on his forehead as he puts in all the work rather than Eren. He could almost smile in this moment, which he doesn’t.   
It’s good to feel this light-headed, it’s almost a miracle that Eren –for once- doesn't want this moment to pass. Nonetheless, he’s got a bus to catch.

“You’re  so open .” Erwin murmurs against Eren’s skin when he’s buried his head in the crook of his neck, picking up his pace.

Though he knows the man isn’t referring to his mindset, he still agrees with a hum. Letting his eyes fall shut, Eren opens his legs wider, angling his hips upwards to allow the man to thrust inside deeper.

_ ‘It doesn’t even hurt.’  _ Eren thinks to himself, feeling only a pressure but none of the sharp stings that accompany intercourse more often than not.

“Fuck.” Is the man’s groan when he spills. Even through the rubber, Eren can feel the heat of him.

After the deed’s done, it doesn’t take long for Eren to jump back into his clothes, shove bills of money into the back-pocket of his jeans and with untied shoelaces ; head to the front-door.

“Eren.” Erwin calls after him, catching up to the boy who waits at the exit. Coming to a stop next to him, Eren leans back his head in order to meet the much taller man’s gaze.

“What?”

Erwin hesitates before reaching up to the kid’s face. Eren flinches even before the man’s touched the bruise spreading from his left eyebrow, across his temple to his cheekbone.

“Are you sure it was just a friendly brawl with  your nephew ?” Erwin repeats the boy’s earlier lie.

Placing his fingers lightly on  Erwin’s wrist to remove his hand fully, Eren nods though looks away.

It’d been only three days ago since he’d been punched by his mother’s ex-boyfriend. The memory is fresh and he doesn’t believe he’ll ever get used to seeing her like he had for the umpteenth time that night.   
Hence, he leaves with haste, nodding at the man as a goodbye before fleeing into the hallway.

Waiting for the elevator, Eren remembers the peculiar-appearing man he’d seen here last time and for a second he expects him to appear in front of him when the metal doors slide open.

But there’s no stranger in front of him.

Just his own distorted reflection as he enters the cubicle and descends home.

* * *

There’s times you meet Johns like Erwin and there’s times you meet scumbags.   
There’s times where these scumbags leave without paying (or steal the money back when paid beforehand) and there’s times where these scumbags leave you fearing for your life.

Luck’s not on Eren’s side whatsoever, which seems typical to summer holidays as he gets in the most trouble during these months, each year again. Like  clockwork , the boy gets in deeper shit than even his rebellious spirit desires and for the first time in his seventeen years on this earth, he mentally says his goodbyes to his mother and friends.

Not only was he stupid enough to get roofied, but as well has his unwillingness to get fucked without protection ended him up on the floor of a sleazy hotel bedroom, blood pooling underneath his face.   
The drugs bless him with feeling no ache as of yet, but curse him with weak limbs and the incapability of stopping what is happening to him.

He sobs. Weakly. Nearly chokes on his own snot and blood while getting raped.

The pressure on Eren’s skull is unbearable as the man, mounting behind him, uses his head as leverage to push up his weight whenever pulling out.   
It feels like his teeth will pop inward any moment, like his neck will break, his back will snap, his throat will contract. The pressure and weight are too much and Eren tries his hardest to force his legs to stretch out so his body would flatten out across the floor rather than be bent double like a pretzel.

But the drugs in his system kick it up a notch and all he can do is whimper lightly. 

Thinking back to happy moments shared with his mother, adventurous ones with Mikasa, combined with blood-loss and a likely overdose, Eren manages to pass out.   
Though he fights it at first, believing he won’t wake up if doing so, exhaustion beckons him to give in.

He would’ve been surprised to wake up next to a dumpster in an unfamiliar alleyway, had it not been for the cotton-dozed headache distracting him from feeling anything but discomfort.   
With wobbly knees, he tries to adjust the clothes that’ve been tugged onto him messily. One of his arms hasn’t even made it into a sleeve, his pants unbuttoned and riding low, his shoes... well; completely nonexistent, just like the money in his wallet.

The taste of copper in his mouth urge s him to spit, but a mere few drops of saliva is all he can manage to produce in his cork-dry mouth. This sensation alone upsets him more than the ache spread across his entire body. Even the ends of his hairs seem to hurt and this mixed in with him being lost and confused, with remembering what has happened to him, delay his plan to get home for the sake of dry-heaving on the asphalt beneath.

Eren feels pathetic when after minutes of trying to cry, not a single tear manages to roll down either of his cheeks.  _ ‘Can’t even cry right.’ _ That’s how lousy he feels he is.

Though it must be extremely late in the night, Eren thanks it being a Wednesday for the lack of people on the streets. Avoiding street-lamps, Eren can only imagine what he must be looking like; walking on the sidewalk, barefoot, hugging himself. His face feels like it’d been handled with sandpaper, his body like it’d been run over by a bulldozer and when touching his hair, it is sticky and tangled.   
Sniffing his fingers which had been buried in his hair moments earlier, confirm to Eren his earlier believes; his head is covered in blood.

Though recognizing the neighborhood after walking half an hour in no particular direction, Eren still tries to get a ride from various cab-drivers and even strangers who all refuse to give him the time of day when seeing the state he is in.   
He’s too far from home to make it on foot and his only option is to wait for the earliest bus which he knows won’t leave for another two hours.

He considers...

Eren considers taking a right, a left, stop at the fifth apartment building in that street and ring the top floor doorbell. He considers taking a bath in that man’s house. Even considers replying truthfully this time around to what has happened to him.   
But something stops him.

He’s too vulnerable.   
He might even get in trouble if Erwin would convince him to hand over information to authorities. The John who’s done this to him might come after him. _After his mother_.   
Moreover, he might loosen up to the man who’s exceptionally soft-voiced even during intercourse, even when cursing.

And that’s the last thing he needs right now.

Resolutely turning around and deciding to find some public bathroom to freshen up before waiting for the earliest bus, Eren has to take a step back when noticing a man standing much too close to him.

For a split second he assumes it to be his assailant, having come after him to murder him on second thought.   
However, the stranger in front of him isn’t nearly as tall or bulky as he had been. Doesn’t stink like alcohol either. Isn’t dressed in cheap attire. Doesn’t carry a misleading, crooked-toothed smile.

On closer inspection, it’s not even a complete stranger either as Eren recognizes this man to be the one he’d seen exiting the elevator when leaving Erwin’s place for the first time.

“Erwin’s boy, isn’t it?”

His voice isn’t what Eren expected it to be. It’s hoarse and soft, not smooth or deep like he’d assumed.   
Though his facial expression betrays some displeasure, or perhaps even disgust, the man’s eyes appear too tired to feign shock at the image in front of him.   
Bitterly refreshing, Eren has to admit.

“It’s Eren.” He replies, his voice cracking so much it almost disappears. Flakes of dried blood spread across his tongue once he’s moved it and he can’t hold back a grimace.

“Get in,  _ Eren _ .” He repeats his name in a tone that could be considered mocking.

Eren doesn’t care. He gets in the car parked behind the man without question.

Though this could be yet another trap, another unlucky moment, Eren recognizes not only the man but as well Erwin’s car and his mind even manages to recall the information told to him months ago by the bartender Jean; that Erwin was staying with friend.

This must be him, then.

It’d be quite ironic would he get assaulted once again.

Once the car pulls away from the curb, Eren _does_ flinch –dramatically- when the man reaches over to retrieve something from the dashboard’s glove-box.   
The movement is so sudden on Eren’s part that even the driver freezes momentarily. Their eyes meet, the red glow of the traffic light making the stranger’s pale face appear almost demonic.

“There’s wet wipes in there. Use them.” He murmurs, pulling away from Eren and instead directing his gaze back onto the windshield.

Eren, surprisingly out of breath as his heart pounds at the notion of being attacked in the constraints of a vehicle, takes a moment to forcefully calm himself down before retrieving the mentioned wipes from the glove-box.   
The lemon-scented tissues turn brown in no time as Eren has to use multiple ones to clean one hand, then the other and eventually nearly uses the entire package to wipe down his face.

It’s a short drive to Erwin’s apartment, though it lasts longer than it would’ve taken on foot because of one-way streets and an abundance of traffic-lights turning red too soon.

More awkward than the car-ride, is the elevator-ride. Eren’s head remains dipped, uncharacteristically embarrassed at the state of himself which he now can witness in the mirrors surrounding him. He’s going to look beat-up for weeks, weeks of not earning a single dime as no one’s going to want to bed him like this.   
In the back of his mind, a voice tells him that continuing this _‘job’_ should be the last thing on his mind after what’s happened to him.

But perhaps it’s another similarity shared with his mother. The thrill of it, even if it may cost him his life, in the end seems worth it. A self-destructive path is all he’s ever seen happen around him and naturally is all he’s ever assumed to be right for him.

It’s difficult to foresee success or even dread when there’s no future in or on his mind.


	4. The Bad Guy.

** III. **

Erwin seems to have done this plenty of times before.

Eren observes the man sitting across from him, his skin older in the pale, bathroom lighting. The boy watches carefully how he unpacks all tools necessary to patch up his beat-up face. A long, hot shower has revealed more damage than even Eren had suspected   
The man’s gloved hands work a thread into a crescent-shaped needle and Eren knows what it’s for; has seen it used on his mother on the rare occasions she’d allowed to be taken to the hospital before.

“How many?” Eren asks, apprehensive to have this man stitch the cut on the back of his head without anesthesia. Regardless, there’s not much of a choice, any medication on top of the drugs still in his system might end him up more damaged than he already is.

“About five.” Erwin replies before getting up and going to stand behind him. The air on the back of his head is cold as it brushes through cut off hair and across disinfected skin.

“What you’ve been through hurt more than this will.” The man adds, a tone of disapproval to his voice, though Eren can’t place whether it’s directed at him or at the man who’s done this  _ to  _ him.

He didn’t lie.   
It takes a little over a minute for the man to finish and Eren concludes the shitty tattoo on his hipbone had hurt more than this.

“Thanks.” He murmurs when getting up, holding on to the towel that h a ng s behind his neck, across his shoulders.

“Can I have a moment?”

Erwin nods, putting away the first-aid kit before exiting the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

Left with only his reflection, Eren stares into his own eyes, pupils still widened from drug intoxication.   
He bares his teeth, white and perfect and no longer telling the tale of what they’d looked like before Eren had brushed them three times. He sticks out his tongue, a cut on its tip from where his jaws had slammed shut and he’d accidentally bit himself. Prodding at his lip, Eren observes the similarities of its cut with that of his mother’s busted lip, months prior.   
Next to the absurd swelling all across his left jaw, Eren is marginally grateful his nose had not been broken. His eyes, however, both are puffed up and he doubts he’ll be able to see out of them starting tomorrow.   
The cut across his cheekbone and eyebrow are filled with ointment, small rectangle-shaped plasters holding them closed.

“Like my favorite boxer after his championship match.” Eren concludes himself looking like. Unrecognizable. A near out-of-body experience to observe himself in this state.

He tries to smile, but it hurts his entire face and so he options to cry instead.

* * *

With red eyes and a runny nose, it is obvious to anyone why Eren had locked himself in the bathroom for nearly half an hour.   
Regardless, Erwin doesn’t point it out and when following the man into his bedroom, nor does the short man named Levi.

“I’d  suggest that  you stay here and rest a bit. You need to be woken up every two hour s or so, in case you’ve got more going on than a concussion.”

Eren immediately tenses up at the thought of staying here longer than  he deems  necessary.

“I’m fine, I have a bus at five thirty.”

“You have someone to check on you throughout the day?” Erwin throws back.

“Yeah , I do. ” Eren lies, not planning to let his mother see him like this and instead disappearing off the face of the earth for at least a week. He’s done this before, and though he knows it worries her –even when calling her on the phone every other day- she'd be devastated to see him in this state. It’s a lesser of two evils, surely.

“You’re a shit liar.”

Both Erwin and Eren turn around to watch Levi pour himself a drink from the minibar placed in the bedroom’s corner.

When the short man doesn’t say another word after his crude and accurate assumption, Eren glances at Erwin, still trying to figure out the relationship between these two men.   
Erwin smiles at him, almost apologetically.

“Truly, I will not bother you much, just sleep for a few hours and allow me to check in on you every now and then. When you’re rested and feeling better, you can leave.” Erwin suggests, pulling back the blanket on the bed Eren’s been fucked in by him twice now.

“Besides, your clothes are in the laundry. It would be an odd sight to take the bus dressed in a towel.”

It’s a remark spoken lightly, teasing rather than threatening such as Eren would suspect from any other John. But Erwin’s not any other John, is he?

The bed, for once, looks inviting and exhausted as he is, Eren’s reasoning to leave this place at five in the morning seems to waver.

Spending the next few minutes staring at the bed, pros and cons swirling through his mind, Eren doesn’t notice the men leaving until the bedroom door clicks shut softly.

Left alone in the room, with a key in the door he could turn to lock himself in, none of it seems threatening anymore.

“Fine.” He murmurs, removing the towel from his waist and crawling into the king-size d bed.

With the scent of Erwin’s aftershave swirling around him alongside the thick blanket, Eren allows himself to curl up and fall asleep almost immediately.

True to his word, Erwin wakes the boy with a soft voice and even softer touch upon his shoulder, every couple of hours throughout the rest of the morning. The room, though darkened by thick curtains, has lost its unfamiliarity to Eren and it isn’t until one in the afternoon that the boy finally gets up to take another shower.

His body aches under the spray of hot water and a look in the mirror shows him  appearing  even worse than the night before. Though his eyes have not swollen to the point where he’d not be able to put his vision to use, his lower lip has grown to a comical size.

Led by a pounding headache, Eren doesn’t even bother covering his nudity when Erwin meets him in the bedroom, reaching out a glass of water and two white tablets.   
Never before has Eren been this grateful for a couple of painkillers, isn’t even worried of what they may contain. He’d be damned if he got roofied a second time around.

“I assume you don’t want to stay around and join me for lunch?” Erwin tries, retrieving a button-up from the dresser at the bed’s  foot end .

“No.”

“I’ll make you some lunch to take with you, your clothes are on the chair and I’ve found some sneakers that should fit you. Keep them.”

Shrugging on the white shirt over tanned shoulders, Erwin leaves the bedroom at a leisure pace, his tone not sounding bothered.

Sure enough, after having dressed himself, a neatly packed lunch awaits him on the kitchen table at which Erwin’s reading a newspaper, a plate with crumbles to his left.

“Hey...” Eren starts, spontaneously blushing when the man meets his gaze over the rim of his reading glasses.

The boy fumbles with the lunch in his hands, looking down in an uncharacteristically shy manner before continuing.

“Thanks for helping me out.”

Erwin smiles, placing down the paper and getting up to walk Eren towards the front-door.

Though Eren knows to not allow the man any more time to start a conversation with him, he still pauses at the exit, still looks up to meet his blue eyes and still leans against the wall behind him.   
Be it leftover drugs in his system or the shock he’d gone through last night, perhaps even how convinced he’d been that death had awaited him, Eren doesn’t move away when Erwin towers over him.   
A thumb placed gently on Eren’s chin is accompanied soon after by the light touch of Erwin’s lips upon Eren’s bottom one. The touch is so gentle it doesn’t even sting the cut down the middle of it.

“Don’t expect anything in return.” Eren murmurs when Erwin’s pulled away and opened the door for him.

“Take care of yourself, Eren.”

When exiting the entrance, Erwin places a hand on Eren’s shoulder, beckoning him to meet his eyes over it.

“Feel free to come visit, anytime. No strings attached and no expectations either.”

Eren frowns at Erwin’s suggestion. It’s clear to the boy the man’s invited him over for a friendly visit rather than a paid fuck.   
It doesn’t sit well and he doesn’t hide the beginnings of a grimace, cut short only by the pain his face.

The boy leaves without another word.

* * *

As expected, after a week his face still isn’t too pretty. Though the swelling has completely reduced from Eren’s features, the split in his lip is still visible, as is the cut on his cheekbone and the bruising alongside the left-side of his face.   
Regardless, it is time to go home after having spent a week with Mikasa who –being eighteen- has been lucky enough to find a crappy one-room apartment to live in. Though Eren longs to follow her example once he turns her age, he knows he can’t leave his mother behind.

Entering his home through the backdoor, Eren catches the distant, static voices from his television-set, notifying him that his mother must be in the living-room.    
Tip-toeing inside, making way through the kitchen and peeking into the living room, he finds her asleep on the couch. Though not entirely to blame for it, Eren feels guilty when counting several empty bottles of beer strewn across the floor next to her. The ashtray on the low table is overflown with cigarette ends and a few crumpled tissues tell the tale of a worried mother.

Kissing her on the forehead, Eren bids her a whispered _‘good night’_ before turning off the T.V. and retreating upstairs to crawl into his bed.   
He can smell a hint of her cheap perfume on his sheets which isn’t surprising as she tends to spend the night in the kid’s bed whenever worried sick over him.   
Granted, he’d only called her after two days of having disappeared. A mistake on his part.

* * *

Eren’s never been into giving oral. 

Being on the receiving end is far more pleasurable and never fails to tip him over the edge in no time, hence why he doesn’t allow clients to go down on him. The last thing Eren wants during a paid session, is to actually reach climax, to accidentally feel appreciative of a John’s handy-work.   
The act of receiving money in exchange for sexual favors is already demeaning enough, it’d be ten times worse would he get pleasure out of it. It’s not something he deserves to enjoy.    
It’s dirty. Dangerous and disgusting. In some ways; a punishment for the act of existing as the lousy human being he is.

Thoughts like these are not uncommon, especially when he’s bored out of his mind during sucking someone off who enjoys to drag out his orgasm.

Glancing up at the stranger, he can tell by his agape mouth and tilted back head, that he’s close. Which he’d been for so long that Eren’s jaw’s starting to ache from it.    
Once again, the boy can feel him swell inside his mouth and he knows by experience that it’d only take a few more tugs of his hands and swirls of his tongue to tip the John over. Yet, once again, the man grabs Eren by the hair and pulls him off.

They both  pant , though because of different reasons.

“You’re  gonna have to pay more if you keep dragging this out, dude. I’m on a schedule.”

The man just nods, inhaling deeply to ease down his own arousal.

In the end the entire blowjob lasted nearly twenty minutes and Eren did not get paid more than had been initially agreed upon.

Massaging his jaw while staring blindly at his reflection in one of the restroom mirrors, Eren finds himself hoping his lower half will be healed soon. That way, he at least can suffer through being fucked and lay back rather than having to choke on a cock for a quarter of an hour in a bar’s bathroom.

Though the split in his lip has healed and the bruises underneath his kin have pulled away, though it’s been three weeks since that night, Eren’s skin still crawls at the memory of it. He can still remember the pain to every sharp and stabbing detail. Moreover, the boy recalls the fear he’d gone through, the helplessness, his conviction of being murdered.

He prods at the scar on the back of his head, the stitches having dissolved by now, the short hairs growing back into the rest of his messy  do .

It distracts his thoughts from his attacker to Erwin. And then from Erwin to Levi.

A crude man, as far as Eren can tell. Enigmatic more than anything. A contrast to Erwin in both looks and personality. Or whatever personality the man had shown in the few moments Eren had been around him. Cold against Erwin’s warmth. Closed off. Unfriendly features, down-turned mouth and narrowed eyes. Nothing about him is inviting, and yet Eren catches himself thinking back to him from time to time.

It’s the  mystery ,  the  _ unknown _ ,  he tells himself.

“Hey.” 

Shaken from his thoughts, Eren looks back up from the sink he’d been staring at, meeting Mikasa’s gaze in the mirror’s reflection.

“Are you okay? You’ve been gone for half an hour.”

She’s more worried ever since that night had happened. Her soft tone and concerned eyes bother Eren not because she cares, but because he’s the cause of her caring. Because he’s reminded of all the  shit he’s put her through ever since they met. Of all the things he’s done wrong, of the danger he keeps putting himself in. Of the nights he’s cried in her arms, stealing her sleep away.

Though her life isn’t picture - perfect either, it’s ways off from Eren since she’s far more capable of getting her shit together. And Eren feels guilty of being a bad influence at times, even though she keeps  inviting  his troubled self with open arms and a minimum amount of criticism.

Just concern.

Painful, genuine, motherly concern.

“Yeah, he couldn’t get it up.” He lies, and though the truth isn’t much worse than his made-up excuse, a shame inside him urges him to leave out details.   
Shame seems to accompany him far more often lately. As if his near-death-experience had shaken some sense into him. Perhaps alongside some morals.

The following hour is spent back in the corner of the bar he’d been seated in before having been approached by his earlier client.    
Getting drinks from strangers allows them both to stay comfortably tipsy and their conversations vary from school -which Eren should attend far more than he does- to the worrisome meaning of life.

It’s plenty of hours later, when the buzz of alcohol has transferred to the beginnings of intoxication, that Mikasa and Eren decide to call it a night.   
With it being only two in the morning on a Friday night, there’s plenty of pedestrians outside the bar and this is likely the reason Eren doesn’t notice the man being in his presence until he comes to a stop in front of him.

He tenses.

“You need a ride home?”

Mikasa grabs Eren’s wrist and starts to pull him away but the boy maintains his position.

“It’s okay, he’s one of the guys who helped me that night.” Eren assures his friend, glancing shortly at her before his eyes get caught by Levi’s once more.

“I rather walk.” Mikasa throws back instead and from the corner of his eye Eren can tell she’s glaring at Levi who in turn remains eye-contact with him rather than her.

“Didn’t offer  _ you _ a ride.” Levi says calmly, voice as hoarse as ever.

“Excuse me?” Dragging his gaze off of Levi’s, Eren turns to Mikasa, placing a hand on her shoulder and hushing her gently.

“It’s okay, let’s just go with him.” The boy urges her to his own surprise as his initial thought had been to refuse the offer and walk home with his friend.

“This bar is quite far from our  homes, the buses don’t drive and I think it’s going to rain soon.” A whopping triple-excuse-combo spills from Eren’s lips and though it takes her a moment, the calm tone to his voice is likely what convinces Mikasa to get in the  –to Eren-  familiar car.

Once Levi’s steered around the first corner of the street, rain does start to pour from the sky in heaps.

“Are you sure about this?” Mikasa whispers at him.

Both sitting in the backseat, Eren glances at the rear-view mirror, tensing when Levi catches him looking. 

“Yes, don’t worry. I’ve met up with his friend more than once, there’s nothing suspicious about them. He’s just rude, is all.” The boy assures her, observing her frown, holding her hand.

“Yeah, no shit he is.”

Dropping off Mikasa occurs with a ten-minute delay in which Eren convinces her he wants to go home rather than spend the night at her apartment. Eventually it’s a tight embrace in her building’s doorway and a kiss on her forehead that calms her down enough to let him go.

With his jacket pulled over his head to prevent his hair from getting soaked in the heavy downpour, Eren jogs back to the car waiting for him.

“Mother-hen, that one.” Levi murmurs when Eren’s seated himself in the passenger-seat. 

Putting his jacket on his lap, Eren glances at Levi, surprised to find him watching him.

“Yeah, she is.” Eren agrees, biting back the urge to tell him facts about them, like how they’d been friends since childhood, or they’d been through hell and back together.   
It’s none of his business, after all. Nothing good comes from sharing private facts with a stranger, let alone facts that bare vulnerabilities.

“ Wanna come over?” Levi asks once they’re back on the road.

Rain splatters upon the vehicle, drowning out the sound of the radio in favor of cozy ticks upon the car’s metal.

“I’m not healed yet.” Eren murmurs, annoyed as well as finding himself carefully eager to visit Erwin. His place –or perhaps it’s Levi’s- is always warm and comfortable, homey and welcoming, it even smells inviting.

“Not for that.” Levi replies dryly and glancing over shows Eren that the man had grimaced half a second beforehand.

“Why would Erwin invite me for anything but that?” 

The question, bitter-toned, holds hope. Hope for what exactly? For some respect? Interest in who Eren is rather what he can accomplish with his body?   
He frowns to himself, remembering Erwin having invited him for more than just a paid fuck before. Something he had resolutely refused in his mind, yet now he’s sitting in his car, warm with alcohol and secure in the dark of the night... well...   
Can he be blamed for being hopeful? Perhaps foolishly so, like his mother keeps being when dating alcoholic men.

They’re quite alike, her and him.

“I’m the one inviting you.”

Eren blinks, sits up awkwardly, gazes at Levi who has his own gaze focused on the street outside.

Now the story is getting more suspicious to Eren. This man, who seems to not be particularly fond of him whatsoever, invites him over for something other than paid sex.

“Why?” He blurts out, frowning, utterly confused.

Levi looks over at him, no expression on his features other than the thinning of his lips which Eren’s isn’t sure of what this means. Is he holding back words? Is he perhaps mentally chewing them over?

“Company.” He replies eventually, eyes back on the road.

“Company.” Eren repeats, expecting that if only he repeats the word out loud, it’ll make sense to him.

“Is Erwin home?”

Levi doesn’t reply for such an extended amount of time that Eren believes he hadn’t heard him over the rattling of the rain.   
However, when he pulls over, parking his car neatly and turns off the engine, he turns in his seat to face the boy.

“Do you care?”

It’s an odd question and Eren has never desired this much to be talented at reading body-language. He has not a clue as to what Levi’s intentions are and though his stomach flutters, his gut isn’t too panicked about this all. 

“Depends if you’re planning on murdering me or not.” Eren states dryly, though he grows rigid when witnessing the man smirk in the corner of his mouth.

“Not all of us are the bad guy, Eren.”

The boy doesn’t reply, not certain where this conversation is leading, and instead just stares at him wide-eyed.

Levi sighs softly, looking down for a moment.

“Erwin’s not home.”

The defeat Eren can witness in the sagging of Levi’s shoulders is eventually what convinces him to stick around. He entertains the possibility of this man just being very awkward in any social situation, not unlike he himself had been and still is, though in a different fashion to Levi.

“Okay. Just.... Just no funny business.” Eren decides, looking away when Levi glances up.

The ride to the familiar building doesn’t take long after that and though nothing was agreed upon, Eren still feels like he’s following a John inside the  apartment .


	5. The Idol.

**!! Chapter Warnings: !! **

** Mentioning of childhood sexual abuse. **

* * *

** IV. **

He didn’t lie.

Eren is left frowning as he watches Levi smoking a cigarette and nursing a cup of coffee while watching reruns of a gaming show. At times he murmurs the answer to a question, other times he clacks his tongue in an annoyed manner, but other than that this remains the most uneventful night ever spent with a male stranger.

If he had no thought, Eren would consider himself actually being bored.

When he tries starting a conversation –something he’s n ot that fond of in general \- Levi has the audacity to shush him, his eyes remaining glued  to the screen in front of them.

And so Eren finds himself going from being indifferent of the T.V.-show to actually enjoying it. Perhaps by sheer force, but he still catches himself snorting at the dry jokes told by the presenter.

It’s when Eren asks for a cigarette, that the night takes a  somewhat  unexpected turn.

“Too young to smoke, don’t you think?” Levi says calmly.

“What, you think I’m under sixteen?” Eren jokes, though tenses up at the odd remark.

“Younger than  _ eighteen _ . They changed the laws two years ago.”

“Well,” Eren starts,  searching  his words now that he knows Levi suspects him of being under eighteen. Which is true, but he’d rather not have him or any other man know.

“I’m not. Under eighteen. And not that good with keeping up with laws. I guess.” Eren speaks in clipped tones, betraying his lies even to a child.

Levi eyes him up and down once before reaching next to him in the couch and waving the kid’s wallet in front of his nose.

“You need to keep a better eye on your stuff,  _ Jaeger _ .”

Eren Jaeger, rather shocked at seeing one of his belongings in the man’s pale,  slim  hand, reaches out and fetches his wallet from him. He checks inside of it, finding his ID, twelve bucks and a condom right where he’d left them.

“Your pants are too big, kid. Your wallet tumbled out of your back pocket the moment you got out of the car.”

Though Eren can’t decide whether to be more offended by the fact Levi had been looking at his ass when exiting the vehicle or by the knowledge that the man had taken some time to himself to snoop through his wallet, he still finds both scenarios fit to produce a displeased frown. 

“It didn’t take me having a look at your ID to be aware you’re under eighteen, though I’d expected six rather than seven.” 

Eren glances at Levi who seems as bored with this new fact as he’d been since the start of the night. His gaze is directed back on the television, seemingly not that bothered with the knowledge of Eren’s underage status.

“You won’t tell Erwin, will you?” 

Besides his seemingly friendly nature and refreshingly boring take on what intercourse should be like, Erwin as well pays generously and it’d be a shame to lose a client as easy as him.

Levi scoffs, his head tilting backwards for a second as if he considers to laugh at the boy’s question.

“You think the old man doesn’t know?” The question sounds almost rhetorical and sure enough he continues before Eren can reply.

“He’s had younger than you, kid. Don’t be fooled by his charm.” With that he gets up from his seat, empty cup in hand.

“He’s a pervert.” The man adds in a murmur, as if not standing behind saying this out loud.

When Levi’s exited the living-room, Eren recalls what the bartender had told him the first time he’d seen Erwin. How he’d had sexual relations with him a decade earlier at just fourteen. Eren had not thought back to this since now, had selectively chosen to ignore this knowledge and left it for delayed gossip which he’d believed it to be.   
Even still, does he really care about this fact?

Surely the man’s never fooled around with a boy aged nine, such as Eren had been when his English teacher had molested him in the middle of their empty classroom on a  heavy,  summer evening. A teacher who he still can smell, feel and see in his mind. A man who he’d put all of his faith into, who he’d looked up to, had hoped to become similar to once grown up. There’d even been months where he’d imagined the man to date his mother, so he’d be able to have him as a father.

And then  _ that _ had happened. Had screwed him up even more than the rest of his shitty life had so far.

The worst part of it all is that after leaving town, he’d died of a heart-attack not soon after. The disgust and crush Eren’s had on him has never been dealt with. He’s never been able to throw in the man’s face how screwed up his life’s become because of him. He’s never been able to say goodbye to him, to spit in his face, punch him _or_ kiss him.   
Eren’s still entirely screwed up over him and everything wrong in his personal life that he’s in control of has been ignited by that single occurrence, eight years ago.

He knows this. He knows.

And yet he does not change his ways.

Woken from his thoughts by Levi who’s returned and is now holding a cigarette in front of his nose, Eren inhales deeply.

“Thanks.”

Lighting it with the lit lighter that Levi holds out for him, Eren reminds himself of the mystery clouding Levi’s true intentions.

“Why’d you invite me over?” He tries again, hoping for a more elaborate answer than the mere  _ ‘company’ _ from earlier that night.

Levi takes a drag from his own cigarette, sitting back down on his single seat sofa, eying the T.V. though seemingly without actual attention. Eren watches the muscle in the corner of his jaw pop out and in, repeatedly , as he again seems to  metaphorically  chew on his answer.

“Intrigue.” 

Exhaling smoke, Eren holds back the urge to roll his eye s at yet another single-word reply.

“Company and intrigue. Anything else?”

Their eyes meet after Eren’s sarcastic remark.

Levi opens his mouth, tongue curled upwards behind his teeth as he starts to form another word. He hesitates, corners of his mouth curling up in a teasing smile that matches the manner in which he has his head tilted up and cocked to the right.   
It’s a look that causes Eren to pause his movements and even halt his own breathing, his curiosity for whatever he’ll say next overbearing the suspicions.

However, they both jump in their seats when the front door clicks open.

“Oh, what a lovely surprise to see you here, Eren.” Erwin greets the boy when walking inside, pausing only to toe off his shoes before he nears the boy and slowly bends over. Eren, heart pounding and feeling as if he’d been caught doing something bad, allows the tall man to kiss him on the cheek.

When Erwin turns around towards the kitchen, straight after, and Eren glances at Levi, it shows the short man intently staring at the television once more. Jaws clenched.

Reminding himself of the crude remarks about Erwin’s taste in boys, Eren wonders if there’s something hostile taking place between the two men.

Before Eren manages enough courage to ask about this; Erwin returns, sitting down next to him on the couch and swinging his feet onto the low table in front of them.   
With an arm swung behind Eren across the back-rest, Erwin makes himself comfortable while the teenager is left to feel like he’s sitting in the middle of an upcoming battlefield.

The atmosphere is tense, quiet and thick and sure enough it takes only a few minutes before Levi gets up, shrugging on his jacket and leaving the apartment without another word.

As expected, Erwin remains discreet and polite, offering to sleep on the couch so Eren can at least sleep in his bed without worrying about any expectations the man might have. He doesn’t once mention Levi, doesn’t even ask what Eren’s doing here.

The most exciting thing taking place happens the very next morning when Erwin slips him a twenty before he leaves.

Eren looks down at the money in his hand, money he hadn’t done a single thing for, and though it makes him feel like he owes Erwin  _ something _ he shrugs off the thought on his way to the bus stop. 

Worries for later, after all.

* * *

It strikes Eren as oddly suspicious when he starts bumping into Levi on more than one location.   
Every time it happens, though, the man doesn’t stick around for a chat, instead just greeting him with a nod and turning the other way unless Eren strikes up a conversation.

Conversation being the generic ‘How are you. Good.  Okay, bye. ’.

He mentions these coincidental meetings to Mikasa who after joking that she doesn’t trust _‘that_ _midget’_ , suggests the town is small and perhaps Levi’s just going out more often as of late.   
It’s possible, but Eren’s been taught in his life that if something raises suspicion, there’s likely something more going on.

Regardless, he gives it the benefit of the doubt. That is until he meets up with Erwin on their –somewhere around- tenth  Rendez-vous .

It’s the same boring routine. Eren lays on his back across the bed, head dangling off the edge while Erwin is propped above him, thrusting inside at a slow and steady pace.

“Never gets old, this, does it?” Erwin grunts and though Eren begs to differ, he just arches into him with a soft moan.   
Closing his eyes, he tries to enjoy the fullness of him, the warmth of the room and the scent of the freshly washed sheets. Eren even goes as far as to imagine a mouth wrapped around his currently flaccid length.

It doesn’t help much at all to turn him on and so he just fakes his way through it, even though Erwin is smart enough to tell just by the lack of an erection alone.   
He simply doesn’t care, nor does Eren.

When the man halts, Eren expects him to pull out and have the boy turn around on all fours. However, as the teenager opens his eyes, he witnesses the upside-down image of Levi walking into the bedroom at a leisure pace.

“Don’t mind me. Fetching some clothes.” He murmurs dryly and Eren’s face heats up so quickly it takes him a second before he manages to cup himself in both hands.

“Can always hang around for the view.” Erwin suggests and it’s one of the few times Eren’s actually witnessed them having a back and forth conversation with one another.

“I’m more of an action-taker than an on-looker.” Is the short man’s reply as he rummages through the closet to Eren’s  right.

“Suit yourself.” Erwin murmurs and Eren’s mortified when the man picks up his previous pace, the sound of the man’s pelvis slapping against his cheeks incredibly loud and tasteless in the room.

To the boy’s horror, Levi doesn’t go for the door immediately after having fetched  shirt and trousers . Rather, the man comes to a halt in front of him, looking down at him and tilting his head a bit to the side so both their visions of each other are less disorientating.

“You look cute. Did something with your hair?” 

Eren’s mouth falls open, wishing Erwin would stop fucking him for a damn second so he could grasp the fact of being conversed with by Levi of all people.

“N-no ? ” He replies dumbly.

Levi blinks almost lazily and Eren wonders if he’s perhaps drunk.

“Must be the angle then.” The older man concludes more to himself than to Eren before he turns around and calmly leaves the bedroom.

Shocked at what had just taken place, Eren is caught off guard when Erwin groans and stops moving, spilling inside of him.

The boy makes haste in rolling off the bed, fleeing to the nearby bathroom.

It’s not like he hasn’t had someone watch him before –hell, he’d been in a threesome as well- it's just that...   
Well, what exactly was it that had rattled him this much? Maybe because it’d been so unexpected. He’d been unprepared.    
No, not quite.

It wasn’t that.

Sitting on the toilet, staring at his bare feet on the tiled floor, Eren cracks his  brain  over the questions in his mind. Regardless, even after ten minutes in the shower, he hasn’t come up with an answer, not even one to possibly fool himself from the truth.

An odd assumption to have. That he has to fool himself from something he’s yet to unravel .

This time around he doesn’t stay the night and walks the hour-long travel home at three in the morning.   
He replays the scene back in his head countless of times, including the words Levi had said to him.

In the end, he blames  the season  for the goosebumps on his skin and his steady pace for his raised heartbeat.

* * *

His birthday takes place on a Friday and it’s celebrated alongside one of his friend’s weekly basement hangouts.    
The echoing guitars and synthesizer waves of the cassette-player are as heavy as the cannabis smoke filling up the small underground room. The heat around him is heady, the air thick and though it’d make him claustrophobic any other time, Eren’s too relaxed to care.

Seated in a beat-up couch, so low to the floor Eren’s convinced the legs ha d been removed at some point , he bumps fists with an old friend wishing him a happy birthday.

“You’ve gotten big.” Eren says when his friend drops down next to him.

He hasn’t seen Reiner in an entire year since he’d changed towns, and though they ha dn ’t kept in touch, the atmosphere between  them  isn’t awkward. Then again, they’re both intoxicated with alcohol and recreational drugs, so awkward isn’t even an emotion Eren would be able to process at this very moment if it bit him in the ass.

“Can’t say the same about you. Still a beansprout, I see.” Reiner says around the spliff between his lips before bending forward to retrieve a couple of gaming-console controllers from the floor. He hands one over to Eren, nudging his chin towards the small television in front of him which is displaying a pixelated menu-screen of a video game.

They play in silence, smoking and drinking and Eren grows even warmer at the pressure of the boy’s thigh against his own. He’s slept with Reiner before, years ago when they’d both been inexperienced and clumsy, when Reiner himself had been as skinny as Eren.   
Eren keeps losing, too busy eying his friend up and down, enjoying the muscles in his legs that seem ready to burst through his jeans, not to mention the size of his arms; on display with how the sleeves of his hoodie have been cut off entirely.

“Won again. What’s my price?” Reiner asks the younger boy and Eren meets his gaze dead-on.

“You want me to suck you off in the bathroom?”

* * *

Though more pleasant than sucking off a geezer who keeps delaying his orgasm, Eren finds himself not enjoying the blowjob as much as he’d thought he would  minutes prior. Perhaps his drunken mind had tricked him in his hunger to go down on Reiner.

Either way, after swallowing down what his friend had to offer, he doesn’t stop Reiner from pulling him up to his feet. The older boy puts a hand behind his neck and their mouths connect roughly. Eren’s never seen the appeal in kissing after having had seed coating his tongue and teeth, but plenty of men seem to enjoy it thoroughly and he allows Reiner to lap into him for a good ten seconds.

“Get on with it.” Eren grumbles, pressing down on the boy’s broad shoulders.

Reiner falls to his knees, unbuckling Eren’s belt and doesn’t waste a second before wrapping his lips around him.

“Yes.” Eren hisses while throwing back his head, not having had his own dick sucked for months makes this almost painful at first.

The blowjob is short but intense as Reiner’s apparently spent the last year sucking dick for a living, going by how good he is at it. He even allows the younger boy to wrap his fingers in his short, bleached blond hair,  pulling  him farther upon his length; an aspect to giving head he himself hates when being at the receptive end of it.

“Reiner, fuck.” Eren groans, looking down at the boy milking him with hand and mouth, gulping down his climax.

Though Eren’s never truly considered dating anyone, he still desires someone to have an interest in him that goes beyond sexual. Hence why, when they leave the bathroom and Reiner goes to chat with a couple of friends across the room, Eren’s left feeling empty like he does after being fucked by a regular John.

It’s a gnawing sensation he could label as loneliness, that is if he weren’t so determined at not feeling sorry for himself, at not accepting emotions he considers to betray a weakness within him.   
He _isn’t_ lonely. He _isn’t_ depressed. 

Rather he is a lost cause, unimportant to society as much as to the people that surround him in life.   
Except for, of course, his mother;positively the only person on this planet that cares for him... But not quite enough to change her ways and provide him stability.

So, if even your own parent won’t get their shit together for your sake,  _ why would you _ ?

“ Wanna get out of here?” 

Eren looks up from the couch at Mikasa. She leans over, touches his face and Eren’s surprised when he feels her wipe away a tear that had  begun to form in the corner of his left eye, yet had failed to roll down.

“Shit.” He mumbles, bending his head and rubbing at his face quickly.

“Crap weed, happens to the best of us.” She jokes, blaming the cannabis for Eren’s uncharacteristically emotional moment. He’s been so numb for the past few years it’s incredible he has any personality left to begin with. So, to catch himself  nearly  shedding tears surprises him even more than it does Mikasa.

“Yeah.” Eren agrees, getting up and shaking a few hands here and there as people say their goodbyes to him.

He ignores Reiner, as Reiner ignores him.

* * *

The so-called crap weed serves them both as Mikasa and Eren smoke on the hood of her mother’s car. 

“How does it feel to be eighteen?”

Eren thinks about this, gazing up at the stars above them before he glances at Mikasa sitting up, one leg pulled against her chest as she ties  the purple laces of  her sneaker. Little drawings are scattered on the white shoe, some of them from Eren, some from Armin, the rest from friends she has and he doesn’t.

“I feel like I’m thirty and ten at the same time.”

“Yeah, I feel that. What’s that saying?  _ Too  _ _ young _ _ for _ _ boys _ , _ too _ _ old _ _ for _ _ toys _ .”

Eren snorts, it doesn’t suit him.

“ F o r yo u, maybe. I’ve had more boys than I’d like.”

Mikasa glances at him over her shoulder.

“You think so?” She asks him before laying down next to him.

“Think what?”

“That you’ve had too many boys.”

“Well yeah, the amount is ridiculous.”

“For who?”

They share a glance before Eren takes the spliff offered to him. He takes a drag, holds the smoke, exhales.

“Society? Your mother? You?” She elaborates when Eren doesn’t reply.

It’s a good question. One that makes him think for a moment before replying.

“All of the above.” Eren admits, handing back the  cylinder . 

“I’m getting tired of it.” The boy adds.

“Why don’t you quit?”

It’s a question she’s asked multiple times throughout the years he’s been doing this. And every time he thinks up the same excuses; he needs the money to help his mother, it feels good to be wanted, he likes it and why wouldn’t he do this? It’s easy money.

Some of them are lies, others; justifications.

“You know why.” He murmurs.

In the following minutes they finish the spliff between the two of them before Mikasa lays her head on his chest and they relax further.

“I was always scared of driving a car.” She starts.

“Was terrified I’d never learn. Was afraid to disappoint my mom. I was scared I’d cause an accident, that I’d total the car and get us in debt, that I’d die in a crash or worse; kill someone else and live with that weight for the rest of my life.” She looks up at him momentarily before continuing.

“But it was necessary. I had to. For freedom, for letting myself know I actually  _ can  _ learn something,  _ can  _ succeed in something I put my mind to. And  to this day  it’s still scary, you know?”

“Yeah, you’re a shit driver, Mikasa.”

She swats him on the chest.

“ I’m just saying ; it’s  _ still _ scary, but I’m doing it. It’s getting better and there’s no regrets.”

“Are you telling me to go for a driver’s license?” Eren asks her, knowing there’s a point to her story as she enjoys using metaphors in the hopes that he’ll have an epiphany. It hasn’t happened so far, as he’s too set in his ways, but he can’t blame her for trying.

“I’m telling you, Eren, that change can be scary and that doing new things are even scarier. But in the end, it’s all worth it. Maybe you’re just used to this pattern, you’re in a rut and don’t see the many different paths you can take. Maybe you’re afraid to take  that leap of faith .”

“That’s it?”

“Don’t be rude, idiot.” She gets up from the hood, swatting his arm this time while he chuckles at her.

Though at the time itself Mikasa’s words didn’t ring much clarity to him, when he gets home and his mother hands him a letter that came in the mail for him, he ponders about them.

The envelope has no return address, but the letter does have a name written on it. Right underneath the dry and simple  _ ‘Happy _ _ birthday _ ,  _ Eren _ .’ the name  _ ‘Levi’ _ is displayed.


	6. Faith.

**!! Chapter Warnings: !! **

**Severe alcohol abuse (Carla Jäger)  
**

* * *

**  
V.**

_‘Maybe you’re afraid to take_ _that leap of faith_ _.’_ Mikasa’s words echo in Eren’s head as he stands in the apartment’s doorway. 

He stares at the last doorbell in a row of buttons and names. The T-shirt on his frame sticks to his body just like his drenched hair does to his forehead, he’s shivering, temperature low because of the summer rain and the unusually cold evening.   
But he still hadn’t gotten on a bus, still had optioned to walk the sixty minutes from his home to this building, because he’d somehow believed he would’ve by now turned back around and stopped whatever idea has been conjured up in his brain. 

An idea that maybe... just maybe, there is one man out there that sees more in him than just a lay. Eren isn’t naïve, not normally, but his friend’s words on his birthday and the happy birthday card later that evening had stirred a hopeful thought within him. 

Clenching his jaws, Eren decided that he’ll never know if he doesn’t try to see for himself. 

Pressing the button makes him almost flinch, eager to turn on his heel and run, but like clockwork the door to his left buzzes for him to push it open. 

Once upstairs, Erwin is awaiting him already, a smile on his face as he’s dressed only in a towel, body wet. 

“Like a drowned cat.” He teases softly, stepping aside and placing a hand between the boy’s shoulder-blades to lead him inside. 

Eren doesn’t move. 

“Is Levi here?” 

Quick as it may be, Eren catches the frown on Erwin’s features before it disappears entirely. 

“I- well, yes. He is. I’ll send him.” 

Eren can’t remember ever having heard Erwin stutter before. When he goes back inside, he leaves the door open, inviting, though Eren doesn’t enter. 

It takes an agonizing amount of time before Levi arrives at the doorway, appearing bored though his eyes seem sharp. 

“Hey, can we talk?” The boy gets to the point and just like Erwin had, Levi steps aside, stretching out his arm to point inside, inviting him. 

“No. In private.” 

The man hesitates and his frown is similar to Erwin’s, though it sticks to his features for a couple of moments longer. 

“Sure. Meet me downstairs.” 

* * *

Leaning against the wall next to the rows of doorbells, Eren stares unseeingly into the rain that pours down. The asphalt is glossy, reflecting traffic lights and the sound of tires rolling over wet roads breaks through every now and then. 

The door behind him clicks open and Eren’s too late to dodge the towel Levi tosses at his face. 

“You look like a drowned cat.” 

Eren takes note of how similar words can be spoken in such different tones that the meaning behind them seem worlds apart. Erwin’s had been flirty, Levi’s... well, annoyed, maybe. 

As they both sit down on the few steps of the entrance, sheltered from the rain as long as they don’t stretch out their legs, Eren –towel on head- accepts the cigarette Levi offers to him.   
Like last time, he holds out a lighter, helping the boy to ignite the stick with a few puffs. 

“No lecture about my age this time?” The boy teases him, or tries to at least. The man’s dressed in all black and going back in memory Eren believes he’s never seen Levi wear any other color, not even button-ups. 

“Eighteen now, so.” Levi murmurs quietly, leaning his elbows on his spread knees while Eren pulls up his legs to sit in an Indian position. His knee bumps against Levi’s thigh. 

“I wanted to ask you about that.” He starts, staring at the cigarette between his fingers as his hands rest in his lap. 

“Why’d you send me a letter?” 

“Why not?” 

It’s an oddly petulant reply, as if he’s been caught stealing cookies from a jar but blatantly denying it with his mouth full of them. 

“You seem like a lonely kid. Thought it’d only do you good.” Levi adds when Eren keeps staring at him. 

A tinge in his chest urges Eren to get angry at this confession, to be upset at being pitied, perceived as lonely; _weak_. But the man says these words with so little intonation he can’t even imagine them to have been formed to insult him.   
Eren forces himself to take three drags from his cigarette before replying. 

“Thanks.” 

“For the assumption or the card?” 

“It wasn’t even a card.” Eren mumbles, glancing at Levi who’s looking at him from the corner of his eye. His mouth is relaxed and though his intonation remains bland, Eren senses some teasing to it. Wishful thinking, perhaps.   
But for tonight he wants to give him the benefit of the doubt, for once he wants to not second and triple guess every single detail that’s present around himself. 

“Excuse me. Didn’t wanna overdo it.” The older man throws back, raising his eyebrows in a meaningful manner before flicking his cigarette into the rain. 

“Maybe start with actually writing instead of scribbling like a toddler.” He teases Levi, bumping his shoulder into the man’s and smirking slightly. 

Levi looks at him, eyes shifting from the boy’s gaze to his lips and back up, reading him. 

“Alright, kid. Damn.” He eventually replies, fake-shock to his tone as he stares back out in front of him. 

They remain seated for moments longer in which Eren tries to find enough courage to ask Levi why he’d called him _‘cute’_ that one time he’d walked in on Erwin and him... But the thought of having them both think back to Eren in such a promiscuous pose forces him to bite his tongue again and again. 

Eventually, Levi pulls back the edge of his sleeve with his index-finger, revealing a silver watch. 

“Dinner will be ready soon. Join us?” Levi asks while getting up. 

Eren nods before he’s even thought about it in his mind, and after throwing his cigarette into the rain, he accepts Levi’s outreached hand to pull him up to his feet. 

“Hey, so...” The boy starts while Levi unlocks the apartment building’s front door. 

“What are you guys?” 

Levi pauses in his movements, looking over his shoulder at Eren while holding the door ajar. 

“What do you mean?” 

The teenager slowly rubs the towel over his hair, pondering over how to elaborate further. As usual he cannot sense an emotion on Levi’s face, hence he remains unsure whether or not he’s overstepped his bounds with this personal question. 

“To each other.” Eren decides. 

Levi looks away for a moment before glancing Eren up and down –something he seems to do to try and read the boy’s intentions-. 

“Friends. We’re old friends.” 

There’s relief in the boy’s chest at this reply. 

“He just has a sadistic knack for being one step ahead of me whenever I’m after something.” Levi adds before entering the building.   
Eren follows him, his stomach in knots after these words, wondering if this _‘something’_ has anything to do with him. It’d explain the cold atmosphere between the two men whenever Eren’s been with them. It’d perhaps even explain why Levi walked in on them having sex; maybe to try and make it awkward on purpose, to put an end to it? 

Or maybe, Eren’s being ridiculous –delusional- and is only reading what he _wants_ to be truthful rather than perceive the grim facts. 

* * *

Dinner’s only a tad awkward, what with Levi taking his plate to the living room and having Erwin and him left alone at the kitchen’s dining table. 

The food’s alright, but not compared to the rare occasions on which his mother manages to cook him something. 

Just when Eren’s about to ask Erwin why Levi seems to avoid his company like the plague, the tall man has a question of his own. 

“Would you like to spend the night?” 

Eren thinks back to Mikasa’s advice on his birthday, but his eyes fall on Erwin’s wallet on the corner of the table. 

“Maybe an hour, I’m short on cash so I’ve got to work some more clients tonight.” The first part is truthful, the second half not so much. He’s got no plans tonight whatsoever. Evermore, he’s not really in the mood to be scouting for Johns. Not tonight. 

Erwin, as expected, takes his wallet, retrieving all the bills inside and placing them next to Eren’s plate. 

Counting three-hundred bucks on sight alone informs Eren to not second-guess it and he places his hand over the money. 

“Changed my mind.” The boy says, flashing Erwin a rare grin which is returned by a smile and nod. 

“We could double that.” Erwin says after a couple of minutes of eating in silence. Eren watches him get up from his seat, dwarfing the small kitchen with his size, retrieving both their plates and cutlery before turning around. 

Though not sure if the man got up to seem less threatening and give Eren some space, or because he’s not fully behind his own suggestion, the boy remains quiet. He’s not sure what could be thrown on the table in exchange for six-hundred, but the sheer amount of it and the things he could do with it urge him to agree to just about anything.   
They need a new washing machine, the fridge has been leaking for half a year, or they could even pay back a part of his mother’s debt. There’s plenty of use for it. 

“You want me to piss on you or something?” Eren jokes when the silence stretches along with the man rinsing their plates. 

Erwin doesn’t reply for a moment until he turns around, drying his hands with a kitchen towel as he leans back against the counter, ankles crossed. 

“I’ve found out that that’s not really for me.” He states dryly and Eren tries to find a hint of amusement on the man’s features in order to figure out whether or not he’s joking. He finds nothing and hence remains stiffly seated. 

“But thank you for the offer.” 

“I wasn’t offering.” Eren quickly shares, not at all into anything that has to do with piss or shit. 

A smile appears on his full lips, chuckling as he nods twice before getting rid of the towel and going to sit back across of Eren at the table.   
Eren watches him fold his hands loosely in front of him, leaning on his elbows and staring intensely so he almost feels obliged to meet his gaze. Which he does. 

“Eren, would you mind an audience?” 

As if physically rejecting the idea, Eren leans away from the man in front of him, pressing his back against the chair he’s in, the tips of his fingers against the edge of the table. 

“Like a tape?” 

Erwin blinks, then snorts. 

“No. No, not at all. An audience of one, live.” 

It takes all of two seconds before Eren figures out that Erwin’s asking him to have sex with him while Levi watches.   
As if summoned by the ludicrous suggestion, Levi walks into the kitchen with his own empty plate. 

They both stare at the short man who pauses in his tracks at the attention. He scowls. 

“What? What did I do?” 

* * *

Sucking a dick that’s nearly twice the size of your face isn’t pleasant. Sucking mentioned dick while there’s someone watching it; yeah, _worse_.   
Thankfully, as impatient as Erwin is when it comes to sex itself, he at least doesn’t seem to be greedy nor forceful when it comes to getting head. It’s hard work, nonetheless. Even at the leisure pace, Eren’s jaws don’t seem to get used to the size of him and there’s an obnoxious fluttering in his stomach that makes him get short of breath every third downwards bop of his head. 

The man moans softly at the teenager’s work but Eren refuses to open his eyes for even a second, embarrassed beyond belief that Levi’s watching somewhere behind him.   
It should help to know that at least the man isn’t seeing the boy from an unflattering angle, that he’s just seeing the back of his head move up and down and occasionally hears the beginnings of his gag reflex putting up a fight. But it doesn’t... not really. 

Keeping his six-hundred bucks in mind, Eren wraps his fingers around the man’s length, matching the strokes with the movements of his mouth until a steady and slick rhythm is built.   
Putting a twist in his wrist every time he moves up his hand ensures a quicker reach to orgasm and a few long minutes later Erwin tells him to stop, breathily. 

His eyes open slowly, scared to see Levi next to Erwin or in front of his own damn face, but he’s not in sight and hence must still be seated behind him on the one-seat.   
The thought of him being hard or perhaps jerking off makes Eren blush furiously. 

It’s not like him to feel like this. He’s done dirtier shit before, unabashed, shameless and head-on. 

What’s different this time? 

“Take off your clothes.” Erwin murmurs, getting up and rounding the bed to retrieve lube and condoms. 

Eren stiffly gets up from his knees, taking a damn long time in crossing his arms across his stomach to grab the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head.   
In a manner that could be perceived as coy but is not at all intended as such, Eren peeks over his shoulder when bending forward slightly in order to tug down his pants and underwear at the same time. 

His heart jumps when meeting Levi’s gaze. 

He’s still there. 

Hasn’t moved an inch. 

Glancing down at his pants reveals nothing, the black color of them too dark in the dim room-lighting for Eren to spot an eventual bulge.   
He’s not touching himself, rather he’s drinking amber liquid from a tumbler, cigarette between middle- and index-finger whilst holding the glass close to his face. 

Kicking off his pants, Eren’s more than surprised to note his half-hard length. The blowjob hadn’t been enjoyable whatsoever, and yet here he is, standing half-mast. 

When Erwin crawls on the bed and Eren’s about to join him, the man stops him. 

“Why don’t you sit on the edge and prepare yourself?” 

Eren knows what he means, but the thought of fingering himself in front of Levi causes him to grow sick to his stomach for a split second. Again, thinking of the money, the boy tries to convince himself to just get over this odd and unfamiliar nervousness he’s experiencing. He tries to imagine Levi’s not there, or Levi’s someone else, he even tells himself that in the dim lighting Levi won’t see as much detail as one would fear. 

But none of this makes him feel more comfortable. 

He stares at Erwin, cupping his now flaccid self, and takes deep breaths. 

“I don’t think I can do this.” 

In the following moments of silence Eren fears his opinion won’t be heard, that Erwin will act like any other horny John; take what he desires. He is afraid the man will grow angry at him, kick him out, never will want to fuck him again. Not because Eren enjoys the sex they have but because he’s so unproblematic and pays generously. Honestly, Erwin’s a good repeat client to have. Above good, even. 

The man glances over the teenager’s shoulder, likely to look at Levi. Something wordless goes on between them before Erwin smiles at Eren. 

“That’s quite alright. Do you mind finishing what you started?” He asks, one hand wrapped around his still hardened length. 

Though slightly disappointed that he still expects Eren to help him to climax after his obvious distress, he reminds himself to not have high hopes when it comes to aroused men.   
Pulling up his pants and making sure to not look behind him, Eren agrees with the man and falls back onto his knees. 

Swallowing down semen within two minutes after having started, Eren is more than relieved when he can get up and make way to the shower. 

It’s only around midnight, when Levi has long left and Erwin coaxes the teenager into bed, that he allows the man to fuck him. 

* * *

Months pass him by. Months in which Eren has stopped himself from visiting Erwin, no matter how much he wants his money. Months in which he no longer goes to local bars in order to avoid bumping into either Erwin or Levi. Months in which he chews on Mikasa’s words and tries his best to cut back on sleeping with Johns. And months in which he tries and fails, repeatedly, in figuring out why anything involving Levi seems to put him on edge. 

It’s surprisingly difficult. Or better said, it’s harder than Eren had suspected, and he’d suspected pretty much the worst. Money is tighter than before, his mother and himself basically living on oatmeal and rice. She undoubtedly notices the lack of financial help from her son but never asks about it.   
More than the guilt he feels for not helping her out, is the void that eats at his chest. 

He’d never liked any of his Johns, had been revolted by them in the back of his mind and other than Erwin, there’s never been a man he felt somewhat comfortable around. That’s not to say he was at complete ease around the mentioned John, but after the fifth meeting he’d stopped fearing for his safety in general.   
Regardless of this, regardless of how disgusted he would feel being touched and pawed at by clients, he misses how wanted he used to be.   
It’s a sick reasoning, and an even more disgusting sensation, to desire the attention of people that have no other interest in him than to fill up one of his holes.   
But it is what it is and though the kid is aware it’s not a healthy perspective nor self-image to possess, though he’s aware it comes from a past of trauma and neglect, it still eats away at him. This desire to be wanted nags him every single day.   
It goes beyond boredom, beyond loneliness even, beyond self-respect. 

The only difference between now and then is that he’s no longer making up excuses for his feelings. Eren no longer tells himself he enjoys this lifestyle, that he’ll do this for as long as he can, that it has no negative effects on his person.   
He’s aware it’s a coping mechanism now and though going cold turkey for now works somewhat, he’s aware he’ll have to get help for this eventually. From a shrink. Which he can’t afford. Yet. 

It’s bigger than life, this fucked up identity he’s been molded into. Too immense to solve on his own. 

He’s tried before. Failed each time. 

It’s all so empty. 

Digging his hands into the pockets of his jacket, Eren ducks his head from the snow. He longs for summer, does so from the very moment fall comes around.   
He despises this weather, perhaps because Christmas holidays are around the corner, smearing their happy families in his face. Winters are to be spent at home; cozy and warm, with hearty food and long conversations with loved ones under a blanket on the couch. 

He has none of this. Even the talks with his mother are tainted with backgrounds of alcoholism and poverty. 

Hence, the teenager is eager for summer, where he can stay outside for days and nights, where he can wear comfortable clothes and every person around him seems to be on their own path to whatever busy plans they have that particular day. It’s anonymous. 

It’s freeing. 

Like a lover with no strings attached. 

When the third car that night starts creeping up next to him, matching his firm pace through the snow-covered sidewalk, Eren scoffs.   
He halts, glares at the vehicle next to him and when noting the window is opened; barks at the driver that he isn’t available. 

Sure enough, the John pulls away from the curb and gets back on the empty road. 

Though the snow falls heavy and the temperature is incredibly low, there’s people around in the city. It being the day before Christmas it’d make sense. There’s always plenty of family members that still have to go out and get a present or a bottle of wine they’d forgotten to purchase or perhaps hadn’t had the time for with working overtime during this season. 

Yet, he’s still surprised when bumping into Reiner. Not only does his friend loathe the cold, Eren knows he’d left back to his own city months ago and as far as he knows the young boy doesn’t have any family around in this town to celebrate the holidays with. 

“Hey.” He smiles, stepping closer and embracing Eren lightly with one arm before stepping back and digging his hands back into his pockets. 

“Hey.” Eren parrots, observing his friend through the flakes of snow falling down between and around them. 

“Wanna grab a drink?” Reiner asks, tilting his head a little sideways with the beginnings of a frown. 

Eren’s quite aware he looks like death washed over; hadn’t slept properly for over a week now, isn’t eating enough either. 

Glancing around them and noting that a few places seem open for business even on this date, Eren nods. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

They walk together, though Reiner seems to lead the way, without saying a word. 

Eren’s pretty sure Reiner wants something out of this by the end of the night and honestly, though deflated over this knowledge, he’s too exhausted to ponder over it. 

It’s not paid for. 

Just old friends. Hooking up. 

Their drinks turn into grabbing a bite in a local diner before they window-shop their way to a bar.   
Once inside, Eren allows Reiner to feed him drunk by buying him alcohol repeatedly and the sloppy fuck in the back of his car isn’t as unpleasant as it is numbing. 

“Why are you in town?” Eren asks him as he pulls his shirt back on, hair sticking every way, skin sweaty. 

Reiner, buttoning up his jeans, replies after a few seconds. 

“Christmas dinner.” 

“Isn’t your family living in the same city as you do?” 

His friend shrugs on his shirt, tossing Eren and his jacket onto the passenger seat in front of them. 

“It’s future in-laws.” 

Eren freezes, eyes Reiner who refuses to meet his gaze, fumbling with his shoes for what seems like hours before he leans back with a sigh. 

“Yeah, I’m engaged to Christa.” 

Christa, another old friend of Eren is a girl with a heart so pure he could’ve never imagined her dating this brute of a guy. She’s always been nice to everyone, including Eren, even though her reputation at school was plenty higher than his own. Christa never pulled up her nose from anyone, humble even with two doctors for parents and all the material shit she’d ever desire in her possession. 

“You cheat on your fiancée?” Eren murmurs, agitated that if on anyone, Reiner would cheat on Christa. 

Reiner meets his gaze, frowns, then barks a single laugh. 

“Come on, man. It’s not cheating if it’s with a dude.” He chuckles, slaps Eren on the shoulder like they’d told each other a series of jokes and proceeds to exit the vehicle to get in the front-seat. 

Eren stares out in front of him, jaw slightly dropped, trying to figure out why he feels hurt over this knowledge, over his words. 

“Hey, get in the front, I’ll drive you home.” 

Shaken from his thoughts, the boy meets Reiner’s gaze, shakes his head and grabs the door-handle. 

“No, thanks.” 

“Eren, we’re miles away from your place, there’s no buses.” 

Eren doesn’t listen, eager to get out of the car and slam the door shut behind him. 

As he power-walks in the opposite direction from where Reiner had gotten out of the car, calling him with confusion lingering on top of his tones, Eren feels the prickling in his nose. The burning in his eyes and the lump in his throat. 

Childish thoughts cross through Eren’s mind as he stares unseeingly at the snow on the ground, kicking his feet through it. Questions as to why every single guy he’s ever slept with is as arrogant as they’re selfish. Why they’re always _‘straight’_ even though they fuck him with incredible determination, like he’s a fetish, a dirty taboo. He wonders why no one’s ever shown interest in him. Because he’s available? And cheap? A whore? Is that it? Is that why he never catches a break? Because he closes himself off from everyone and then when he opens up it bites him in the ass? Is that the only thing he’s doing wrong?   
He was different when younger, his promiscuity a slow-burn after what his teacher –his idol- had done to him. He’d held boys at a distance physically but given his emotions, his heart, throughout short-lived relationships at an acceptable pace. 

And yet _still_... Still, no one stuck around. 

Not his father. 

Not his teacher. 

Not a single boyfriend, not a John, not Erwin and not Levi. 

_No one._

And here he fucking is, feeling sorry for himself, something he’d always assured himself he’d never do. After all, once you pity yourself, once you accept that you’re a failure, what future is there to build on top of this? Regardless of what he’s been through, he’s in control of himself right now and isn’t changing a damn thing he’s unhappy with and... well. 

Is he? Is he in control? 

It never feels like he is. Always feels like he should be though. Teenage years be damned, he should’ve been on top of this since the moment he put two and two together. Never go easy on yourself. 

Get your shit together. 

Just get over it. Just get over it, Eren. 

The boy, who’d somewhere along the way halted in his tracks to stare ahead of him without seeing a single thing, startles when a weight is rested upon his shoulders. 

“You idiot. What’re you doing walking around in this weather without a jacket? Are you out of your fucking mind? You could goddamn die in this weather, dressed like this. What were you thinking going out like this? What are you even doing out here in this part of town?” 

Eren blinks, exhaling slowly as he listens to Levi ranting at him, tugging the jacket he’d laid over his shoulders more tightly around him.   
The boy watches the white flakes of snow contrast on his raven black hair, watches his pale face contorted in a worried frown, observes how his lips are turned down at the corners, disapproval apparent. And in that moment, rather than feel shame or anger at being insulted repeatedly, Eren only processes worry. 

_Caring_. 

“Levi.” He whispers. The man continues complaining under his breath, taking off his scarf and wrapping it almost too tightly around Eren’s neck. 

“Levi.” The boy repeats his name and can’t stop his voice from cracking as his dried tears are washed away with fresh ones that pour down uncontrollably. 

“Levi.” He sobs his name, contorts it, nearly ruins the beauty of it. 

‘ _Levi, why does nobody want me?_ ’ Is the thought that he tries to say out loud, but it comes out as a weak, cracking sob. 

The man stops his movements, looks up and his mouth opens slightly while his eyes shift up and down, left to right, taking in the boy’s face, appearing shocked that he is crying. 

“What...” Levi starts, but pauses, instead reaching up and placing a hand clad in black leather upon Eren’s cheek. The teenager can feel the heat of his palm through the fabric 

There’s always been something about this man. Eren’s felt every emotion around him, even though he’d seen him only a few times, interacted with him even less. And yet, though Eren knows little to nothing about him, Levi’s so familiar. So known, so _calm_.   
Watching a snow flake melt on top of the man’s eyelashes, Eren feels his chest pull tight. He exhales once more, steam coming from his breath and mingling with Levi’s and that’s it. 

The boy leans forward, placing frozen hands on the man’s cheeks and plants his lips against the other’s. 

Levi doesn’t move for a good couple of seconds but Eren refuses to pull away, tears still streaming down his face as he realizes he needs _this_ . Just for now, for tonight, even if it’s a lie. He needs to believe there’s something, _someone_ , out there for him. He _needs_ to have this image of a future. 

Be it because he senses the desperation or because the desire is mutual to a less meaningful degree, Levi’s lips part and he kisses him back while tilting his head slightly.   
His mouth is searing hot, tastes of coffee and a hint of mint that must’ve come from chewing gum.   
The hand on Eren’s cheek slides onto the back of his neck, pulling him down and forward until the pressure of their kiss becomes almost painful. 

But it feels good. 

So good, to be eaten alive. To _feel_ alive. 

Eren wouldn’t have given it to the man who’d always appeared rather stiff and perhaps even prude, but he kisses like a man starved. 

This aspect alone is what confuses him when Levi places a hand against his chest and pushes him away gently. They stare at each other and the boy can sense dread immediately.   
Wiping away his tears, he apologizes, letting go of the shorter man. 

“Let me drive you home.” The man speaks quietly. 

The drive home is slow because of the snow and Eren watches the flakes spiral towards the windshield. It reminds him of last year’s winter, in Mikasa’s car, though he feels like an entirely different person from back then.   
This time around he’s broken, shaken, weakened and confused. There’s not a sliver of confidence or arrogance to him no longer. 

Which had been the real him? 

Expecting no goodbye when Levi pulls over in front of his house, Eren startles when the man grabs him by the collar and kisses him once more.   
Though there’s no tongue involved, their lips are pressed together firmly for a few stretched out moments before Levi let’s go of him. 

“What, you’re not murdering me?” Eren jokes weakly, voice thick with tears shed earlier. 

Levi smiles slightly, remembering their first conversation in a parked car. 

“Not all of us are the bad guy, Eren.” He repeats his reply from back then and Eren nods slowly. 

His chest is warm, his heart; hopeful. 

“Goodnight, -” Eren begins, getting out of the car before pausing and looking over his shoulder. His stomach flutters when noting the man is still looking at him, expression soft. 

“Levi.” He concludes and the man nods at him, smiling from the corner of his mouth. 

“Goodnight, Eren.” 

* * *

When stepping inside, Eren knows before he has proof that the night couldn’t end well. 

It’s too quiet, too dark and the hum of Levi’s car driving away makes Eren feel even more alone than he had before he’d bumped into him. For a second he wants to turn around and leave the house, run after the man’s car and beg him to just spend the night together. 

But what good would this do? Levi would get cold feet and Eren, well, he’d just be running from his own problems right into the arms of problematic coping mechanisms once again. 

The taste he’d gotten, or perhaps the hope he’d produced for a better life, makes him angry when seeing his mother on the floor; bloody nose and reeking of alcohol. Not angry at whoever beat her up this time, but at her. 

For allowing herself to be put through this over and over again. For allowing her only child to go through this along with her, since he’d been a toddler. 

“Mom.” He whispers, grimacing as he squats down next to her, going to help her up. 

Her hair is messy, her eyes unfocused and she spurts something incomprehensible from her lips whilst swatting heavily at her son’s outreached arms. 

“Leave me!” 

Eren’s actually shocked to hear her raise her voice at him. She’d only shouted at him in anger two times before, and that had been over a decade ago. 

“Is this what you do?!” Her words are slurred and as Eren gets up it pains him to see her fall back onto the floor after trying to get up. 

“See your-your boyfriend while I **suffer**?!” 

Eren glances over his shoulder, noting the opened curtain and assuming she’d seen them kiss in the car.   
Anger and hurt flare up inside of him. It’s been a battle inside of him that had never been this obvious. His anger towards her had always been in the background, too compassionate and forgiving about her to express his anger for her irresponsible behavior. But it’s mixed into a revolting and pungent cocktail, his blood boils. 

And yet he swallows it down. Again and again. 

“Mom, who did this to you?” The boy asks her, observing not only a possibly broken nose but as well the starting of a black eye. They always go for her face... Every fucking time they do, because she never leaves the house anyways, because no one would even bother to care seeing her bruised like this. 

No one cares. 

About her. 

About him. 

He cares about her. 

But here she is, not even giving a single damn about her son. 

And all it does to him –these thoughts- is to make him feel selfish. Like he doesn’t deserve to be loved, to be respected and cared for more than his mother had managed to do while fighting her own demons. How dare he consider himself?! 

“Does it matter?” She replies, scoffs, sits up while swaying as she gave up getting up. 

“It does, to me.” 

“To you.” She repeats in a sarcastic tone, laughs bitterly, looks up at him with such drunken animosity it breaks Eren’s heart right there and then. 

“Yeah it does, mom. It fucking does.” The tears return immediately before he can even catch his breath, though this time around they’re fueled with sadness _as well as_ rage. 

“All you care about, Eren, is fucking local men to buy yourself cigarettes!” 

Eren’s mouth snaps shut. Not only is he again shocked by her insulting him, blaming him, _accusing_ him, but moreover her view on him. 

“I fuck them to help _us_!” The teenager shouts back, scowling and licking his lips when salt reaches them. He doesn’t bother wiping away his tears, hoping that seeing him like this will make her realize what she’s putting him through. 

“So now it’s my fault?!” She returns, placing a hand against the wall as she starts to scramble up onto her feet. 

Eren shakes his head, laughs as bitterly as she had and he wants to tell her, wants to hurt her with saying that he wouldn’t expect anything less from an alcoholic. But even now, in this horrible moment he can’t hurt her. Not intentionally. Not when she’s intoxicated, barely aware of her surroundings, beaten up. 

“Everything I do, mom, is for us! Everything! I consider you in everything because we are all we have! We are alone, mom!” 

She leans against the wall, her eyes not really there as they continue to fall half-closed every few seconds.   
It’s pointless to talk to her, she won’t remember a thing in the morning. 

All he is doing is hurting her for his own benefit: to vent. 

But he needs to. Right? He needs to let this out, right? 

“No, Eren. _I’m_ the one who’s alone.” She hisses while taking a step forward. 

“ _You_ . You have your silly friends. Your boyfriends. You go out. You have fun out there. **_Not_ ** _me_.” She stumbles as she spits the words in disgust and though she punched the air out of his chest with her accusations, he still catches her before she can fall. 

It is heart-wrenching to hear her opinion of him. Drunk or not, they come from somewhere in her brain and to think she’s been left alone all these nights with thoughts like those roaming her mind, break him. It means that for a great part he is to blame for her misery. 

“I love you, mom.” Is the only thing he can say, his voice breaking, high-pitched, all of his anger dissipated with the snap of a finger. 

She slaps him across the face. 

The impact is so sudden, so unexpected that Eren shoves her off to take a step back and place his own hand on his red cheek.   
Though she stumbled back onto the floor, her gaze is directed on Eren and they stare at each other wide-eyed. 

The silence is eerie. 

Her eyes are bright with tears, no longer lazy and unaware, as if she’d slapped herself out of her drunken haze. 

“Eren, my baby, I’m so sorry.” She whispers once more and though in the back of his mind he’s still hurting more for her than himself, Eren mumbles a goodnight and flees the house.


	7. Midnight Breezes.

** Epilogue. **

Eren’s heard before that in order to  build yourself up, you need to be broken down completely and for the first time he actually starts to believe this.

It’s been several months since  the fight with his mother and to his own amazement she hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol nor invited a man over since that night.

He’s careful in being hopeful, which is hard when life is appearing bright for the first time in his eighteen years on this planet. He’d expected to be more wary and have a more critical eye towards positive outcomes, but to hell with it, it feels refreshing to indulge in  ‘ what ifs ’ .

Perhaps it’s because he’s never truly been able to grow up fully because of what’s happened to him, that allows him this childish hope.   
Though alongside this had come the curse of having to act like an adult early on in his life, mentally he’d never really been there.   
His criticisms and sober outlooks always had a tinge of positivity to them, buried away underneath layers of self-deprecation and irony.

But they’d blossomed out of the dirt. As of late.

The sun his mother, the water, perhaps Levi.

Whichever is which, Eren lets down his guard and Levi maintains a solid support alongside his healing mother.   
They’d even met.

Though she’s wary of him being nine years older than Eren, long conversations between mother and son have settled her mind enough to allow her some peace.   
Besides this, he drives her to A.A. meetings and appointments with her social work assistant, brings groceries when he has money to spare and even managed to get them a new refrigerator as well as a washing machine.   
Levi not only tried his best to leave a good impression with her, but he simply _cares_. He cares about Eren and he cares about her. And it shows.

“Are you sure?” Levi murmurs, his breath fans out over the boy’s hard length.

“Yeah.” Eren whispers, glancing down his bare chest at the man laying between his spread legs.

They’d waited months for this. Months of going on dates, of kissing and heavy petting. Months of Levi pushing Eren away when things got too heated, assuring him without words that he is not in this for sex alone.   
Besides this, Levi had confessed he’d been following him around often –hence why he’d kept bumping into him- and had been avoidant around Erwin out of sheer jealousy. Long story short, Levi’d been interested in Eren from the moment they’d crossed paths at Erwin’s apartment’s elevator.   
He’d been ashamed during his confession, assuring the boy he wasn’t a stalker and though Eren had had lapses in his judgement of character before, Levi felt right.

Levi  _ feels  _ right.

“Oh.” A simple moan escapes Eren’s lips when the man inserts his lubed index-finger into the boy.   
He fucks into him slowly, blowing him at the same pace, distracting Eren enough that he doesn’t notice four fingers being inside of him ten minutes later.

“I might not last for long. It’s been a while.” Levi murmurs after he’s removed his fingers and positioned his length against the boy’s entrance. 

“Yeah, same here.” Eren replies, exhaling heavily as he watches how Levi’s wrapped one hand around his  own  length to hold it in place while the other has its finger-tips resting on the boy’s hip.

Pushing inside of him goes slow and steady and months of only having been occasionally fingered by Levi ensure the fit is tight.    
Levi agrees with the sentiment, going by how his mouth falls agape, panting and frowning while he watches himself disappear within Eren.

Though he doesn’t want to close his eyes, Eren has a hard time not to lay down his head and enjoy the ride. It feels good. Familiar, safe, soft and gentle and everything he’d always thought he’d hated.   
Levi takes it slow, undoubtedly to hold back his own climax rather out of wanting to be careful. After all, it’s obvious Eren’s enjoying it, going by his quiet moans and how relaxed his muscle is; contrasting with the rock-hard state of his erection.

This is what he’s never felt before. A sensation to pleasing it can be felt from the ends of the hairs on his head to the tips of his curled toes and everything in between feels like a vessel of bliss squeezing his heart with reassurance.   
It’s what they write about in those silly romance novels Mikasa has hidden under her bed. This is that sensation Eren thought was made-up by single housewives that had never gotten an orgasm from their bald husbands.

Levi doesn’t increase the pace of their rhythm, rather he seems to soak in it, only pausing to lay one of Eren’s legs on his shoulder, while leaving the other one bent on the bed, his hand resting on its knee.   
The pillow underneath Eren's cheeks serves its duty by angling his hips upwards to allow the man on top to thrust as deep as possible. And he gets so deep it takes away both of their breaths with every stroke inward.

No matter the emotions, the softness, the possible romance between them, Eren more than anyone, is aware of how dirty sex is in the end. It’s just a race to climax for most, a race you go through slowly or quickly, rough or soft, with detours and delays that can be as pleasant as the simple run towards the finish line. Yet, the closer that that end comes, the more erratic behavior becomes and Levi is no different.

When the man picks up his pace, burying deep and delaying pulling out as he chases the sensation of thrusting inside of him, Eren groans and reaches out towards him.   
Pulling Levi down on top of him, they kiss sloppily before the man buries his face in the crook of Eren’s neck and the boy imitates him.   
Panting against each other’s skin, their bodies rocking together in quick, rhythmless repetition, Eren tries his hardest to arch up into him, if only for his own cock to be rubbed by the man’s abs.

When Levi curls his back, avoiding the boy’s length, Eren gets worried for only a split second.

Straightening back up and placing both hands in the backs of Eren’s knees, lifting and spreading his long legs, Levi fucks him harder and faster than before. 

“Let me suck you off. Don’t come yet.” The older man almost growls the words, his voice gone after groaning for the past fifteen minutes they’ve been fucking. Eren’s as impressed with his stamina as he is annoyed, aching for his orgasm.

He observes the man’s stomach, muscles twitching with every movement, the vein leading down his pubic bone towards his cock thick and apparent. His black hair is shiny in the dimmed lighting, strands sticking to his sweaty forehead above half-lid, grey eyes.    
Eren feels himself being shoved by endorphinsover the edge of falling in love.

When  Levi comes, Eren moans along with him, enjoying how his hot release fills him up without a layer of rubber in between them.

“Fuck.” Eren whispers to himself, panting along with Levi who pulls out slowly, shuddering as he  looks at where Eren can feel  seed trickle from  his entrance .

It takes the man a few moments to catch his breath, sitting back, before he reaches down and rubs his own cock once; collecting his own climax. Eren groans when the man’s hand wraps around him, stroking his own fluids over his length before collecting some more from between the boy’s cheeks.   
Using semen for lubrication, Levi jerks off Eren at a leisure pace for plenty of minutes until the teenager is writhing and out of breath.

Watching him go down on him,  somehow , he’d not expected this stuck-up persona to put his mouth around a cock covered with his own release. But Levi’s not quite as he’s perceived to be and Eren groans the man’s name when he swirls his tongue around the tip.

The blowjob itself doesn’t last long, to Eren’s relief, and when spilling inside of his hot mouth, he has  Levi' s raven-black hair wrapped around his fingers ; holding his head in place while the man swallows him down with  ease.

When laying down next to him, Levi weaves the fingers of his right hand through the ones of Eren’s left, assuring him, promising him, that even after what they did, he’s still here.

* * *

Smoking  a cigarette on Levi’s balcony after a hot shower together, Eren stares at the moon above the town. It illuminates the tops of roofs with a blue sheen. The early hour assures not a single lamp is turned on in any of the nearby houses and it allows the boy the illusion of privacy. Solitude, though without the bite of loneliness this time around.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Levi murmurs, letting a hand stroke over the boy’s behind  as he steps on the balcony  before leaning on his elbows on the  metal railing like Eren is. Both butt-naked, Eren smiles coyly at the man next to him.

“I’m thinking of how  life’s not always meant to be scary.” Eren murmurs, pulling up his shoulders to try and not make his words sound heavy as he thinks back to his turn-around ages ago, on the hood of Mikasa’s car.

Though he doesn’t quite understand the full meaning to Eren’s words,  Levi  still nods thoughtfully, looking up at the moon with him.

“And how not everyone’s the bad guy.” The boy adds with a soft voice, a fear still gnawing at him that one day he’ll wake up, or Levi will reveal to him  a side as ugly as the monsters hiding away in the back of Eren’s mind.

But he’s got to have faith in this. If not in a god, if not in a higher cause, then just this; right here  and  now. Solid and real.

“Eren,-” Levi murmurs, standing back and pulling the boy towards himself by his elbow. The man plucks the cigarette from Eren’s fingers, flicking it from the balcony. He holds the teenager with one arm around his waist, and then another one.   
Eren wraps his own around the man’s shoulders and they embrace for what seems hours on this hot summer night.

“I like you.” The man whispers into his neck.

Eren pulls away slightly, meeting his gaze.

They smile and though Eren's mind tries to nag him, tries to remind him of how maudlin and abnormal his life had been, it falls on deaf ears. 

Staring into his gray eyes, in arms that hold him firm and caring, with knowledge of his mother’s path to success, and his own road to healing,

Eren longs  only  for the penchant of summer and the scent of petrichor which, after a suffocating downpour, is carried along on midnight breezes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this story and leaving kudo's and comments. Have a great day/night!  
> \---
> 
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**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


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